Verto Vitae
by RynStar15
Summary: In an effort to change the world, they must first change themselves. The Order relies on Hermione to complete an arduous mission and Hermione relies on Draco to survive. This new world will try them as never before and they will quickly find out that all is not as it seems...
1. Quod Potio

**Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Harry Potter nor do I make any money or intend any copyright infringement by using the characters therein.**

 **Please read all tags before continuing, this story is MATURE and contains themes and explicit content which may be offensive to some readers. This story is DARK, exciting, intense, and full of LEMONS. This will be my one and only caution. You have been advised.**

 **TAGS: Abuse, Angst, Contro, Fingering, H/C, HJ, Humil, Lang, M/F, NON-CON, Oral, Tort, Violence**

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Hermione's hands trembled as she reached for the empty vial sitting on the scarred wooden table next to the frothing concoction. She wished she could fault the heat emanating from the flames below the pewter cauldron for the perspiration collecting at her hairline, but that was a futile allegation. Just as the one blaming her trembling hands on skipping dinner.

No, she could only blame the overwhelming fear, doubt, and anxiety she felt staring at the mercurial potion swirling before her, oddly similar to the color of the eyes of the man standing just over her shoulder, his body thrumming with energy.

"Are you sure it's right?" he asked nervously behind her. Under normal circumstances, she would have come up with some witty quip about the fear in his voice, but these were anything but normal circumstances, and she knew hers would hold the same- if she could work past the ball in her throat, that was. As an answer, she only managed a jerky nod.

"It's the correct shade?" he questioned, flipping through the tattered book they'd been following for the past month. Hermione nodded again, eyeing their work. Deepest silver, the color of connection, of bridging, of journey. Swirls of black, the continuum of time and space to lead their way. An undercurrent of the darkest emerald signifying their ancestral bond. It was perfect.

"You're absolutely certain?"

This last affront at her potion-making abilities finally manifested her voice.

"Of course. I brewed a Polyjuice Potion in my second year. This is hardly different."

"It's different in every way, Granger! As in my life is on the line here!"

"And mine isn't?" She knew she sounded shrill. For what felt like the thousandth time in the last twenty-four hours, Hermione asked herself why she had agreed to this. _Why?_

Her hands clenched into fists and she closed her eyes, drawing in a deep breath through her nose, holding it, and letting it out through her mouth. He snorted behind her, but she ignored him, as she was well inclined to do. She repeated this process until she felt sturdy enough to not upset the potion when she ladled it into the vials awaiting her.

Steadier, she transferred the potion quickly from cauldron to vial before she could think on it more and handed the first to the boy behind her who took it, his cold, clammy hands brushing hers in the transition. Hermione groped for the second vial and filled it as well, watched as a tiny drop slithered down the side to the ground where it hissed and bubbled.

She turned to him then, his dark grey eyes wide, his normally pristine hair disheveled and his pallor expression one of hidden desperation.

"This will work?" Draco Malfoy asked, but she knew he wasn't talking about the potion. They both knew they had brewed it right, had fretted over it anxiously for the past thirty days. Their resolution didn't waver because they thought they might be poisoned or turned into pigs or other such nonsense, they worried over the fear of _what ifs. What if_ they forgot? _What if_ they were swayed? _What if_ they were found out? _What if_ the plan didn't pan out? _What if_ they changed the present so irrevocably there was no going back?

 _What if_ they failed?

"It has to," was her answer. Because there was no other option. It had to work because she couldn't let her best friend down, not when he needed her most. Not when she could finally make a significant contribution to this damnable war. They would figure out the mess they were throwing themselves into when the time came. For now, she had to soothe the blonde before her, the one who was risking just as much as, if not more than, her.

"We brewed everything right. We've been rehearsing for months. We know what's going to happen. We went over everything a thousand times. You remember your role?"

"Of course I bloody well do!" he snapped, sounding a little more like himself. It was good, the anger was good. Better than the fear. "You've drilled it into me enough times!"

"And I know mine," she said slowly, calmly. "It's going to work. We're going to do our part, we're going to come back, and we're going to end this whole business once and for all. It's going to work because they're counting on us to make it work. They're not going to remember, they won't know the plan, they won't know us. It's down to you and me now. There's no turning back and we wouldn't if we could. Right, Malfoy?"

His lips pursed, but she could see it in his face, that determination, that drive which had connected them in this completely mental assignment from the beginning. "Right."

Hermione took a deep breath. "Then give me your hand."

Malfoy did as bid and Hermione pulled out a needle from a pouch in her satchel. She pricked his finger and he dribbled a drop into his vial and waited as she did the same. Swapping the potions, they gripped the vials in their left hands, clasping their right hands, the potions pressed against their union. Malfoy was so near she could feel his magic crackling through him as he readied for their last step. Their eyes met, mahogany and pewter, and chanted the words:

 _"Mea est enim vita tua. Est vita tua."_

Hermione could feel the warm glow of their magic and shuddered in the wake. She could feel Malfoy's tremor and when he made to drop her hand she clasped tighter, needing that connection, that support. His eyebrows raised but he said nothing for once and squeezed her hand. She clung to him tightly and held out her vial as if in a toast.

"Bottoms up."

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When she came-to, Malfoy was holding her upper arms. His face was fuzzy at first but she blinked a few times and her vision cleared.

"You alright?"

She blinked a few more times, trying to figure out why she was on her knees. She looked down and saw the vial clenched in her fist, realization dawning on her. They'd taken the potion. They'd actually done it.

"Yeah, yeah just a little dizzy."

"Same. You went down, thought something had happened. You sure you're alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Moody said this might be a side-effect. Remember?"

"I remember. Can you stand?"

She nodded and he helped her up. The vertigo waned and she swallowed and looked around. The dungeon classroom was the same; the walls gloomy, the chairs and tables the same old battered ones they'd left. The desk was where it had been and when she studied Malfoy, he looked the exact same.

"Mirror," she ordered breathlessly. "Get the mirror."

He jerked into motion, grabbing the satchel on his hip and ripping it open, yanking out the silver hand-held mirror. He held it up to his face and simply stared.

"Well?" Hermione asked anxiously, wringing her hands over the empty vial.

"Look for yourself."

She took the proffered mirror and gazed into her reflection. Except that it wasn't hers at all. She looked taller, a little gaunter, and a lot more beautiful. She was blonde, her face had a slightly pinched look that did nothing to detract from the prominent cheekbones, the arched brows, the flawless skin.

The vial fell from her limp hand and shattered on the stone floor.

She was a Malfoy.

"Want to see what a sister of yours would look like?" she offered breathlessly. He shrugged and leaned over her shoulder to gaze at the mirror. She giggled a bit when she saw his reflection. Mousy brown hair that was a little too long, a round face with deep brown eyes and sharp jaw line, just like her father. He was most certainly a Granger.

"I think we know who has the better bloodlines," Malfoy quipped. Hermione smacked his chest with the back of her hand and he chortled, taking the mirror, turning it this way and that, his vanity ostensible.

"Which reminds me." She dug in the bag for the soft leather case. Malfoy dropped the mirror in obvious disgust at his new features and watched as she set up the next step.

"Finger," she bade and took his hand which still looked very Malfoy to her own vision. She pricked it once more and dripped the bubble of blood into a vial, dropping his hand so she could put the stopper on it. She shook the liquid and watched as it turned brown. Her breath hitched. One more test and they would know for sure. She took a second needle from the pack and pricked her own hand, the quick burning pain enough to keep her on task. She squeezed out a drop of deep red into the next vial and closed it up, shook it, and watched as the potion turned a bright, milky white.

"It worked," she breathed. It had actually, truly worked.

Hermione Granger was a Malfoy. Draco Malfoy was a Granger.

"How does it feel to be a Mudblood?" she asked sardonically, gazing at the vial which had given her kind their unfavorable name. The mixture of magical and Muggle blood led to the muddied color, whereas Malfoy's purely magical line shone as an "untainted" white.

"Dirty," he sneered. But it worked. The corner of her mouth quirked.

"Wonder what my parents named their only son?" she pondered.

"If they named me Bob Jr. so help me-"

Hermione laughed. She was glad he could make this into a joke. It would make this this entire situation a mite easier to swallow. The two of them were now utterly alone in a universe where Hermione was the Malfoy heir and Draco was a Muggle-born.

"Oh, how the tables have turned," she sighed. Malfoy quirked his brow and Hermione shook her head.

"Muggle saying."

Suddenly nervous, she drew up her now creamy-soft white shirt and stared at her blessedly bare left forearm. She looked up at Malfoy who swallowed.

"You're not eighteen yet," he said bracingly. "It won't happen until you're eighteen."

"I know," she murmured, pulling the shirt back down, buttoning it. "I just…"

"Had to check?"

"Yeah."

It was the whole reason they'd come, the whole reason they'd been thrown into this ridiculous scheme. She knew better but still…it calmed her slightly to know they had not missed their chance, to know that their plan could still come to fruition. Clearing her throat, Hermione looked around.

"What's the time?"

Draco lifted his wrist and read the watch there. "After eleven. We should get to bed."

She nodded. For some reason, she didn't want to leave Malfoy's side. He was the only person now that she could rely on and though they were far from friends, they were all each other had for the next month.

She shook herself mentally. Though she may be a Slytherin in this world, she'd been sorted into Gryffindor for a reason. Straightening her shoulders, she gave him a small smile. "Meet you here tomorrow at nine?"

"That's the plan."

She nodded again and cleaned up the mess she had made with the blood test and broken vial, throwing it all into her own satchel. Her hands were quaking again. He must have noticed.

"You going to be alright?"

She smirked, mirroring his signature. "Feel like I'm going into the snake pit."

"You are. And I'm headed for the lion's den."

She let out a small laugh and noticed, for the first time, that his green and silver tie had switched out for red and gold, the crest on his robes one of Gryffindor. She herself sported the colors of Slytherin. This was undeniably the strangest thing that had ever happened in her bizarre life.

"I guess this is it."

"I guess so."

Hermione took a deep breath and led the way out the door, pulling out her wand and plunging the room behind them into darkness. Malfoy nodded at her, still, in her eyes, blonde, tall and strikingly handsome. Then he turned and headed back up towards the Gryffindor tower while she, in her eyes, still mousy brown hair and short stature, headed deeper into the dungeons for the Slytherin common room. Her domain now. Her new life, such as it was, for the next month.

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A/N: "Verto Vitae" means to exchange lives, which Hermione and Draco have done to fulfill a mission for the Order. Danger and trials await them in this dark and smutty fic. "Mea est enim vita tua. Est vita tua." translates to "Your life is mine, my life is yours." These words will have much more meaning than either of them have ever anticipated.

Next chapter will be up shortly and they will all be much longer than this little preview. Enjoy this new fixer-upper of mine, previously under the title of "Oh, How the Tables Hath Turned."

XOXO

RynStar15


	2. Vitam Novam

Hermione took a few deep, steadying breaths as she stared at the blank stone wall before her. She knew as soon as the wall opened she would be thrust into a world she did not know, into a role she had to play to a 'T,' into a life Malfoy had endured. Behind this wall could lay her destruction or the world's absolution; if only she could make it through this month to do what she had to do. Behind this wall lay a world in which she would never belong.

That was if she could get through the damn door.

Fingers crossed, she whispered the password Malfoy had told her this morning. _"Fidelus ut unus."_ Loyal to one.

The wall made a grinding stone-on-stone sound and a crack formed right in front of her that widened to reveal the common room within. Bedecked in green, silver, and black, it was a much sleeker and eerily colder room than the one she was used to. The two windows which flanked the extravagant fireplace were pitch black, the lake beyond rippling against them. Garish green lamps lit the room and students milled about, a much more somber mood filling the room compared to the boisterously loud one of the Gryffindor common room.

"There you are!"

Hermione looked over towards the Banshee-like screech and allowed herself to be pulled into the room as if it was normal to have Pansy Parkinson happy to see her. Hermione pulled back her hand with a raise of her brow and Pansy averted her eyes and muttered "Sorry."

Hermione decided then that she might like this new power Malfoys wielded.

"Is there something you wished to tell me?" she asked and Pansy perked up immediately. _Haughty,_ she reminded herself, _you have to be haughty._

"There _is!_ Come, we had that first year you like keep your spot warm for you!"

Hermione gave no hint that her heart was pounding so hard she feared it might break through her ribs and tumble onto the floor. She simply allowed Pansy to escort her to a large armchair before the fire as a small girl scurried out of it looking terrified and hurried back to her friends. Hermione wanted to go to the girl and tell her not to worry, but she had to stay in character. _You are a Malfoy_.

"Daphne!" Pansy called and the blonde hurried over to take a spot on the rug before Hermione while Pansy handed her a mug of what smelled suspiciously like Firewhiskey, and Millicent Bulstrode tried to take off Hermione's satchel.

"Ugh, that thing is hideous, Valouris, where did you get it?" Pansy squealed, cringing from it as if it might infect her.

Hermione nearly snorted. Valouris? Her name was _Valouris_? Well, if her Latin served, she thought it sounded like a hybrid of the words _validus_ for strong and _decorus_ for beautiful. She supposed there was nothing wrong with that. The Malfoy's certainly were a vain lot.

When she noticed the girls staring at her she had to mentally back-peddle to remember what Pansy had asked her.

"Er…Professor Slughorn gave it to me. It has some Potions ingredients."

"And he couldn't keep them in the store cupboard with all the others?" Daphne sneered.

"These are very _special_ ingredients that he entrusts only to me," she explained. The girls gave "ohs!" of comprehension and she sighed with relief that this lot was either astonishingly gullible or so loyal to their Malfoy that they dare not question. Knowing that it held something to do with Potions, Millicent dropped the bag immediately and Hermione figured it would be safe for a while at least.

"So, what was it you wanted to tell me, Pansy?" she asked with a slightly bored affect. "I'd rather like to get to bed."

"This can't wait!" she simpered. "Daphne, go on, go on and tell her what you told me!"

The pretty blonde grinned in a knowing way and looked up at her. "I was on my way to the loo when I overheard Blaise and Theo talking," she said dramatically, her eyes wide. "Blaise was showing him something and I only got a _glimpse_ but I'm certain I know what I saw!"

The group burst into a fit of giggles and Hermione came to the conclusion that no matter what house, it seemed, girls were a bunch of dolts.

"Would you mind telling me what it is you _think_ you saw, or do I have to guess?" she said in a mildly irritated voice. Daphne cleared her throat and curled her lips in as if trying to contain her laughter.

"It was a ring!" she finally said in a harsh whisper. The girls peeled off in laughter while Hermione focused on keeping an air of slight disinterest even though all the oxygen seemed to have vacated the room. _Blaise Zabini_ was going to _propose_ to her? She could feel the blood draining from her face and glanced over to where said individual was settled on a dark green velvet settee deep in conversation with several boys. When he caught her staring, he sent a sultry wink her way and turned back to Theodore Nott who was explaining something with large gestures of his hands.

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked, feeling faint.

"Like I said it was only a _glimpse_ but he was saying something about the Astronomy Tower this weekend! Isn't that sweet?"

Hermione gave Daphne an inquisitive look. What in the world would be sweet about the tower where they took their midnight Astronomy lessons?

"You know, because that's where you guys first...well, _you know!"_

Hermione feared that she did know indeed and felt very, very ill. Apparently, the Malfoy side of Hermione Granger had not nearly the scruples. Now, not only was she going to have to pretend to be a Malfoy, but she would have to pretend to like Blaise Zabini, a man who she had barely spoken a handful of words to her entire life.

"Well, on that note I should probably head to bed," she said weakly, rising. All the girls stood with her and Millicent handed Hermione her bag quickly.

"Val, you didn't drink your potion!" Pansy reminded her, pointing to the mug situated on the small table next to her armchair. With all eyes on her there was no way she was going to get out of this. Well, she supposed if her character drank it every night there was no harm to it. Right?

She groaned inwardly. An inquisition, an engagement, and now she had to drink an unknown potion? She hadn't been in this room for ten minutes!

Taking a deep breath, she chugged the liquid and wondered vaguely what it was she was consuming. She left just a drop in the bottom so she could pick apart the ingredients and try to figure it out on her own. She started when Pansy peered over and looked into the mug. The dark-haired girl smiled when she saw it was empty and Hermione tried not to be sick on them all. There was definitely Firewhiskey in it, that was for sure. Eager to get as far away from her new "friends" as possible, she took the bag from Millicent and started for the staircase, but a hand grabbed her upper arm and she flinched knowing what was coming.

"Think you can slither away from me so fast, my little snake?" Blaise murmured, turning her around to face him. His hands curled around her waist and she screamed at herself not to pull away, not to cringe.

"I-I thought I might get to bed early. You looked preoccupied, I didn't want to disturb you," she lied, trying to ignore the fact that her entire crew was watching with bated breath.

"Since when has my little princess cared who she disturbed?" he crooned, his head coming down to nibble at her neck. Alright, she was now _completely_ grossed out. _Don't flinch, don't flinch!_

"I was being considerate," she said wincing, pulling away. He grinned.

"Well, how about you consider meeting me at our spot, say, Saturday at midnight?"

 _Oh, no, oh, no, oh, no!_ She was completely unprepared for this! "I'll think about it," she crooned smoothly and gave the sauciest smile she could muster before starting up the stairs Malfoy had told her led to the girl's dormitory. When no one questioned her, she hurried to the top and peeked around the wall to see how they were reacting. Blaise was giving Theo a high five and Daphne was chewing on her nails while the girls giggled hysterically.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione found the door with the seventh-year placard on it and strolled the beds to find hers. It was fairly easy to do; it was the one next to the window with a picture of Valouris and Blaise snogging on the nightstand. Quickly, before the girls could follow her, she emptied the two drawers in her nightstand onto her emerald bedspread and pulled an empty vial from her satchel that Pansy had complained about. She pulled the stopper with one hand and poured the small bit of Firewhiskey potion into the container. Not used to drinking, vertigo and nausea had kicked in and she cursed whatever ritual _Valouris_ was into.

Rounding to the elegant black trunk at the foot of her bed, and nearly tripping over it, she flipped the silver clasp and opened it. She snorted in disgust at the thin silk lingerie she was supposed to wear to bed but pulled it on self-consciously anyway. Her eyes stuck on the door, she dumped anything she could get her hands on from the trunk onto the bed and when she heard voices outside the door, jumped onto it and slammed the curtains closed, muttering a Silencing and Sealing Charm.

She sat in terror for a few moments but the girls simply chatted while they dressed down and bade each other goodnight. It seemed once Valouris Malfoy went to bed, she was not to be disturbed. Letting out the breath she had held, she lit the tip of her wand and went to work, wondering all the while how Malfoy had received his welcome.

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Draco looked up at the portrait of a ridiculously obese woman in a pink dress. _This is what protects the Gryffindor common room?_ he thought scathingly. Well, it certainly worked. He wouldn't, under normal circumstances, go near it with a Quidditch hoop pole.

But these certainly weren't normal circumstances.

"Password?" she bade and he nearly rolled his eyes at the one Granger had told him.

"Quibwidget." What the bloody hell was that even supposed to _mean?_

The portrait swung open and he started forward resignedly.

The room was large and warm, two enormous fireplaces providing light along with ornate chandeliers and torches placed throughout the red and gold bedecked room. He spotted Potter and Weasley next to one of the fireplaces leaning over a chessboard. He looked around nervously, wondering where he was welcome, until Weasley looked up.

"Oi, there you are! Been looking all over!"

Figuring that was a summons of sorts, he held back his bile and took a seat on the couch next to the impoverished redhead.

"How do you keep doing that?" Potter asked, scratching his messy hair, staring at the board before him. Draco figured out quickly that Potter had been cornered. Was it possible that Weasley could actually beat the Golden Boy at something?

"It's all up here, mate, all up here," Weasley replied smugly, tapping his temple before stretching and cracking his back.

"I give up," Potter declared while his little black men screeched at him about where he should move them. Weasley just chuckled and started packing up the pieces.

"So, where were you?" Potter questioned, stretching as well.

"Er," Draco looked between the two and remembered what Granger had told him to tell them. "Slughorn called me down to his office."

"Why?" Weasley asked, wrestling a knight into a maroon velvet pouch.

"He wants me to give-" _fuck_ he didn't know her name! "-Malfoy Potions lessons."

"What?!" they both cried.

"That annoying bint?" Weasley said disgustedly. "Why?"

"I guess she's falling behind," Draco replied. "He wants me to tutor her until her grades improve."

"Better you than me," Potter snorted, then took on a pensive look. "Hey, actually, this could be good..."

 _"Good?"_ Weasley asked incredulously. "How would being stuck in a dungeon with that gorgon be good?"

Draco seethed and had half a mind to tell Weasley just how fortunate he would be to spend an hour a night with a Malfoy, but bit back his scathing retort.

"You could interrogate her," Potter explained, looking at him. "Ask her questions, see if she'll let anything slip about where she's been going, see if she says anything about her father-"

"Harry, I highly doubt Malfoy is going to talk about dear ole daddy," Weasley rolled his eyes. "She's been mum until now, hasn't she?"

"Things have changed," Potter argued. "You've noticed how withdrawn she's been, how she's fallen behind in classes. Something's going on and she's bound to let something slip."

"It's probably just N.E.W.T's," Weasley chided. "Only in a couple weeks, aren't they?"

"It's more than that and you know it," Potter snapped. "It's worth a try."

They both looked at Draco and he figured it was his turn to say something. "Er, yeah, I suppose I could try."

"You're siding with him?" Weasley cried. "What happened to 'she's not all bad?' I thought you were with me on this one?"

 _Fuck_. "Well, I'm not going to _interrogate_ her or anything, but if she happens to let something slip I'll let you know," he said. Would it be a good enough answer?

Apparently, they both seemed satisfied and Weasley changed the subject to McGonagall's essay which was due the next day. If the Draco-Granger was anything like Hermione Granger, he didn't have to worry about it being done. Indeed, both boys implored him to look over his essay for hints, but Granger had warned him about this. He told them no, that they would never learn that way, and felt it was the poofiest thing he'd ever said in his life.

When he didn't think he could take any more of their inane rambling, he bid them goodnight and headed for the staircase Granger had told him led to the boy's dormitories. When it didn't scream at him he sighed in relief and headed up to the Head Boy placard. Glancing down at the shiny badge on his chest, he grinned and pressed his hand against the door as Granger had instructed. It swung inward and he entered, glancing around in disgust at the red and gold hangings. A snoozing lion hung over the roaring fire and a thick Persian rug sucked up his shoes. Well, at least it wasn't all bad. He'd have at least a modicum of privacy throughout this ordeal.

Pulling off his cheap clothing and satchel, he went to the trunk at the foot of the bed as Granger had told him. Rifling through the contents he found that his name written neatly in the upper left-hand corner of every textbook:

Leon Granger.

Leon? What kind of name was _Leon_?

Shrugging it off, he figured out that, like Granger, he was incredibly obsessed with his studies, if the multitude of practice tests had anything to say about it. But he also had a fair amount of Dark Arts books which confused him. Was he bad even as a Muggle-born?

Knowing it was crazy, he glanced down at his bare forearm. No, the Death Eaters would never take a Mudblood. That was why they were in this position in the first place.

Draco sighed and tried not to think about it. He wondered if Granger was making a fool of herself with the Slytherins. He grinned when he thought of her earlier comment about "going into the snake pit." If only she knew. How would prude little Gryffindor Princess hold up to a rowdy bucnh like the Slytherins?

His gut twisted when he thought about it. _No, she's smart. She'll pull it off. No one will ever know the difference._

But still, he worried. More than he ever had in his life. More than last year when he'd tried to kill Dumbledore. Because now, it wasn't just his life on the line, it was the whole fucking world's. If they screwed this up there was no telling what could happen. He may be stuck forever in a Muggle-born body in a world where Death Eaters ruled. For the first time, he could really understand where Granger came from.

He didn't _feel_ any different. Not really. Looking down at his hands he saw the same thing he'd always seen, though he knew if he looked in the mirror the reflection would change. He looked like a Granger to everyone but himself and, well, Granger _herself_. And yet he knew from the blood test that he was different in every way. He cursed again when he thought of all the horrible things he'd been helping his family bring down upon this girl and her kind.

 _Her kind,_ he snorted. _You_ are _her kind. She's a witch, you're a wizard._ He had to keep remembering that.

His head hurt. His body ached. He needed rest to prepare for the long day ahead. After reassuring himself that his Granger version had indeed finished the essay due tomorrow, he flopped down on the blissfully cool sheets and shut his mind off to the outside world.

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When Draco woke it was to a dull ringing. He groaned and pulled a pillow over his head but the ringing persisted. Rolling onto his back he gazed blearily around for the source of the noise, finally pinning it to a clock on his nightstand. He rolled his eyes at the Muggle contraption and spent the next minute trying to figure out how to turn the damn thing off. He finally gave up and chucked it across the room into the dark fire pit where it shattered and finally desisted. Content, he checked the watch on his wrist.

Six. It was six o'clock in the bloody morning. What the hell was his Granger-self thinking?

Well, he was up now. But what was he supposed to do for the next three hours? Go to the library and shove his face in a book? As unappealing as that sounded, he knew it was probably what his Granger-self would do. Grumbling, he grabbed a quick shower and snagged his school bag, slinging it over his shoulder. Was the library even open at this hour? Cursing Granger, he made his way to her sanctuary.

Apparently, Madam Pince was more than happy to open the library early for her "favorite student" and he gave her a cheesy smile and sank into a chair at the same table he had seen Granger occupy for the last seven years. Shoving his nose into an Ancient Runes book, he thought vaguely of taking a nap when something heavy slapped onto the table beside him. He jumped and looked up at Granger whose eyes were wide and bloodshot.

Fuck.

"What happened?"

 _"What happened?"_ she whispered hysterically. "Good gracious, I don't even know where to start!"

"Granger, we can't be seen here together," he replied, glancing around at the empty library.

"Oh, don't worry, no one will come for another hour at least," she said, then eyed him. "I'm surprised you're here this early."

"Some damn clock thing you Muggles thought up woke me and I figured it's what a Granger would do."

"Well, how every keen of you," she chuckled at his misfortune, settling on a chair next to him. "And I don't think it's wise to keep calling me 'Granger' seeing as I'm a Malfoy now."

He chewed his tongue. There was no way in Hades he was going to call her _Malfoy_.

"Or you could call me Val, or better yet, _Valouris_. _"_

He snorted. "Your name is _Valouris?"_

"Apparently so. It means 'strong and beautiful' in Latin."

"An apt description of a Malfoy. I still say it's better than mine."

"Leon?"

He started. "How the bloody hell did you know that?"

She smiled. "My mother always told me if they had a son that's what they would name him. She was obsessed with _A Winter's Tale_. It's a play," she explained when he looked at her questioningly.

"Ah." It was all he could say. Muggles were odd creatures. "So, other than not liking your name, why do you look as if you haven't slept all night?"

She picked at her fingernails for a moment before looking up at him. "Blaise Zabini and I…well, we're er-"

"No."

"Yes."

"Wow."

"Mhm."

"So, er…are you going to…you know…"

"What?"

"Fuck him?"

"Malfoy!"

"Granger."

"Do you have to be so crude?"

"It's a valid question."

She sighed, intentionally not looking at him, her cheeks pinkening. "I don't know, I can't really see a way out of it. It seems my Malfoy self has been rather…promiscuous."

Draco grinned, leaning back in his chair and threading his fingers behind his head. "Definitely a Malfoy."

Granger gave him an admonishing look. "You're not helping."

"What do you want me to do, Granger? Go fuck him myself?"

"Of course not! And would you stop using that word? It's…"

"Yes?"

"Gross."

He snorted again, highly amused at her prudish behavior. "Better get used to it."

She rolled her eyes in defeat, looking back down at her hands, fidgeting anxiously. "It's just…"

"What?"

"I don't know if I can…"

Draco raised his brows. "You don't know if you can shag him?"

She glared at him. Seemed she wasn't fond of "shag" either. "Well, yes, I suppose that is a fair concern."

He shrugged. "I don't see how it would be much of a problem, Granger."

"Malfoy."

"Whatever. He's a guy, we all pretty much want the same thing."

He could see her darkening and she refused to look up from her wringing hands. "And, er, what is it guys, well, _want?"_

His jaw nearly hit the table. "Don't tell me…you're not-are you?"

"If 'virgin' is the word you're looking for then yes, I am."

 _Oh, for fuck's sake._ Draco nearly groaned in disbelief. He supposed it made sense if he really thought about it. She certainly didn't seem like the type to…well…but _really?_ If she was a virgin and Blaise went for it she was sure to shy away.

"It gets worse," she whispered, ripping him harshly from his sordid musings.

"How?" He was starting to feel queasy. How the hell was she going to pull this off?

"Daphne Greengrass overheard and saw...well he, he was speaking with Theodore Nott about…he's going to propose!"

 _"What?!"_

"Shh!"

Now he knew he was dreaming. There was no way this nightmare could be real. Though it was a valid match; the Malfoy and Zabini family lines would be thrilled. He knew, however, that it wasn't the proposal she was worried about. Something like a marriage proposition would require certain intimacies…

"When?"

"Saturday night."

Shit. Two days. "Can you get out of it?"

"I'll try. But I can't avoid him forever."

"No, I suppose that would be asking too much," he sighed, looking over at the forlorn girl, hating himself for what he had to say. "Granger, I think you're just going to have to go for it."

She didn't make a scene like he figured she would, so she must have already worked it out on her own. Then why had she brought it up? He'd rather not think about, well, _that._

"Malfoy, I'm worried that…well…"

"Yes?"

She looked up at him imploringly. "I'm a virgin. Surely you understand that comes with certain… _intact_ territory?"

Draco's heart relocated to the vicinity of his bowels. Shit. _Shit._ There was no way Blaise wouldn't catch that, he knew for a _fact_ Blaise hated virgins for that very reason. While Draco had pleasure breaking the girls, Blaise would pick them up when he was through and enjoy himself with the more learned ladies. Granger was sure to be a terrified mouse in the sack and the simple fact that she was still, well, _intact_ was the biggest problem. It seemed Valouris Malfoy was not nearly as innocent as her Granger counterpart.

Draco scrubbed the back of his head, whirling around any possible way out of this insane situation. "You can't avoid him for an entire month."

"No, I suppose that might be asking too much."

"I'm sure you can pull something off to delay this weekend, however. Get detention somehow. It will give you enough time to…prepare yourself."

"In what way, Malfoy?" she snapped. He could see she was nearing hysterics. "By throwing myself on the closest contestant? Don't you understand? The entire school must know that she, _I,_ am not a virgin! What if it got out, if the boy told? Our entire plan would be in jeopardy!"

She made a fair point. "Then what do you suppose we do?"

He felt her staring at him and looked up into her miserable face, dread filling him. "No."

"Malfoy-"

"You want to fuck me so you can turn around and screw Blaise?"

"It's not as if I have a choice!" she cried. He could see the tears welling up, ready to fall. "We can't risk anyone knowing that Valouris Malfoy is suddenly a virgin overnight! Do you know what kind of questions would arise? This is our only opportunity. We can't fail," she reminded him with steely clarity.

No, failure was not an option at this point and if it got out that she was suddenly innocent…besides, they had no idea who she may or may not have been with and if she started propositioning men she'd already… And there was absolutely no way she would get away with trying to avoid Blaise altogether...

Draco scrubbed his face, groaning. For fuck's sake, he hadn't signed up for this. This wasn't part of the plan! He wasn't supposed to be fucking Granger to save the world!

But it looked now as if he had no choice. As Draco stared at Granger looking so utterly wretched, he knew he couldn't throw her to the wolves, not when she was doing all this to save his arse in the first place. He sighed dejectedly.

"Alright. Alright, don't worry. We'll figure this out," he said calmly, remembering the instructions Potter had given him not days before on how to deal with a distraught Granger. "Tell Blaise you have Potions lessons with me and Slughorn Saturday night. We'll deal with it then."

She nodded, swallowing several times before she was able to speak and when she did, her voice sounded so small and lost. "I'm sorry-"

"It's not your fault," he cut her off. And it wasn't, there was no way they could have foreseen this complication. Bleeding hell, she was already risking her life and now she was forced to give up her virginity for him, for the Wizarding World. As much as he could harangue her for this, he wouldn't. "Now hurry along, you can't be seen with me. Still on for tonight?"

"Yes." She gathered her things and scurried out of the library as fast as her legs would take her. Leaning back, he scrubbed his face with his hands and fought not to scream at the unfairness of it all.

 _"Life's not fair,"_ he remembered Granger telling him when he'd gone on a rant a few months back. He let out a sardonic scoff.

"Too right you are, Granger."

.

.

.

XOXO

RynStar15


	3. Obligatio

Hermione couldn't concentrate during her classes, but she figured it was in her character to daze off into space. Indeed, no one mentioned anything and Pansy slipped her a copy of the Charms notes she had taken. McGonagall snapped at her once during Transfiguration and she had to fight to keep from going bright red and slinking down into her seat in shame. Instead she kept a pompous look on her face and continued to stare at a burn mark in the wall and wallow in her troubles. 

What in the world was she thinking, asking Malfoy to… _deflower_ her? She supposed she was simply picking the lesser of two evils- besides the fact that he was the only one who could know that she was a virgin. But how could one night make up for what she figured was Valouris' years of experience? What would Blaise expect? Would she be able to pull it off? 

Who was she kidding? She was the prudest person she knew! She wouldn't even let Ron put his tongue in her mouth. It was _completely_ disgusting! It wasn't that she found sex abhorrent it was just…well…alright, yes, the act seemed rather brutish and unsanitary in her opinion. She was sure she'd feel different once she'd fallen in love, but she certainly didn't see that happening any time soon…

She just had to remind herself that their future resided on her acting this role. When she finished her mission, they could go back home and rest easy knowing that she had done her part. They would take down Voldemort and all this would be in the past. Besides, it wasn't like sleeping with Blaise was the biggest of their worries right now. What if- 

"Miss Malfoy, if you please?" 

Her head snapped up and she realized that Professor Vector had asked her to complete the final sequence of the Chaldean Method. Having not paid attention in the least bit to the lesson she was at a complete loss, but she thought back to the studying she had done a few nights before on the method when they had been warned it was coming up. 

"I believe you are looking for 1-Y." 

The stern teacher stared her down for a moment. 

"And could you please tell me the difference between The Aggripan Method and this one?" 

"The Aggripan Method deals with the number 9 whereas the Chaldean Method only goes to 8 and the Chaldean Method is also partially based on the Hebrew alphabet." 

Eyes like a hawk, her professor stared her down harshly. Hermione wondered why for a moment, she knew that was right, until she realized that she was _not_ Hermione. Would Valouris know that? 

"Well done, Miss Malfoy. It seems you've read ahead for once. Now, back to the table." 

Hermione snuck a sideways glance at Malfoy who was sitting next to Ernie MacMillan. She could see his tense shoulders ease when the Professor began again and he chanced a look her way. She mouthed "sorry" and he gave her the tiniest fraction of a nod. They were fine. Until she noticed Daphne looking at her in awe. Hermione gave her a scathing glare and she went back to her notes. 

_Deep breaths_ , she reminded herself. _No one is going to think anything of Valouris getting one single thing right. This is only your first day, keep on task!_

After her reprimand, the rest of the day ran by somewhat smoothly. She realized quickly that if she just allowed Pansy to lead her through the motions, she would get by. 

At dinner, she had to fight not to laugh out loud at the look on Malfoy's face when Ron motioned to a spot next to him. Hermione's heart ached at seeing him and Harry, both the same, both laughing at something Dean had said. It saddened her that it seemed they didn't miss her at all. She missed her Gryffindors terribly.

 _Of course they don't miss you, you swot. They don't even know you exist!_

"Val!" 

She snapped back to the present where Pansy was trying to get her attention. "Are you alright?" 

"Yes, yes I'm fine," she answered quickly, turning back to her meager meal. 

"You seem a bit off today. I've told you before, you can't just gulp that potion. Drink it a little slower tonight, alright?" 

Hermione nodded and turned her attention back to the conversation. Her neck crawled when Blaise straddled the seat next to her and put a hand on her lower back possessively. 

"Good evening, _mon cher_ ," he drawled, kissing her neck. She nearly cringed when he nuzzled her shoulder. "You've hardly said a word to me all day." 

_That's because I've been purposely avoiding you._ "I didn't sleep well last night." 

"She drank her potion too quickly last night," Pansy explained, shoving a forkful of mashed potatoes into her wide mouth. 

Blaise looked at Hermione as if he were reprimanding a small child. "Val, is that true?" 

"I don't like the taste," she complained truthfully. Malfoy complained a lot, she figured it ran in the family. Blaise rounded on Pansy angrily. 

"Pans, did you forget to put in the Firewhiskey?" 

"No, I put it in there! Didn't I, Val?" 

She nodded but Blaise still glared at Pansy sternly. "Put more in tonight. Her father said it wouldn't hurt the potion at all." 

_Lucius Malfoy_ knew about the potion? What in Merlin's name were they up to? 

"There, my pet. All settled. You won't even be able to taste it," he said, kissing the corner of her mouth, making her wince. "Now, what do you say you and I go make use of the Room of Requirement?" 

Her stomach lurched and she scrambled for an excuse. "Not tonight, Blaise, Slughorn has me doing remedial potions." 

"This have anything to do with that potion you blew up last week?" he asked with a chuckle and Hermione nearly slumped in relief. Thank Merlin for small mercies! 

"Yes." 

He sighed heavily. "I guess I'll have to settle for a kiss, then?" 

Damn! Damn, damn, damn, _damn!_ With everyone watching there was no way out of it. He cupped her chin and his soft lips met hers. She turned to stone and coached herself to relax; this was an everyday occurance for Valouris. 

"Mmm, playing hard to get, are we?" Blaise chuckled, a sound which made her stomach lurch. "Alright then." 

He swooped in again, holding the back of her head while his teeth nibbled her bottom lip. She held her breath and tried to kiss him back. When he slipped his tongue into her mouth she groaned in disgust and froze. Shit. Shit, shit, shit, _shit!_

"You like that, kitten?" He didn't seem bothered by the noise at all. In fact, he seemed pleased. 

"Don't call me kitten," she snapped without thought. _Damn it! Stop your tongue!_

But he just chuckled again. "You're right, there is nothing kitten-like about you. Too fucking sexy for a word like that. In fact, there are no words for you at all." 

He started back in but she turned away to grab her bag. "Well, now, aren't you the charmer? But I really do need to get started on homework before I have to go to Slughorn." 

He kissed her neck again, biting slightly and making her shiver. "Until Saturday, then." 

He stood and with him, Nott, Crabbe, and Goyle, his loyal puppies following him out of the hall. The girls didn't squeal this time but neither did they give her any odd looks so Hermione figured she'd pulled everything off smoothly enough. Which was a relief as her stomach was in knots.

She rose with as much dignity as she could muster, hurried to her new dormitory, and sealed herself inside her bed in hopes for some peace and quiet. 

Hermione fell exhaustedly against the pillows as soon as the curtains were drawn. She hadn't gotten any sleep the night before, she'd spent all night going through Valouris' things trying to get a grasp on the girl, but nothing showed for her effort. There were no stacks of correspondents with Lucius or hidden Death Eater items. Just make-up and dress robes and expensive perfume, sickening love notes from Blaise, and trinkets she was sure he had bestowed upon her. Also, a list of boy's names from around the school on a scratch piece of parchment which had made her cringe in disgust. At least she kept track of her encounters. 

She'd also read every essay Valouris had kept, whether by accident or not, so she could mimic her writing style. Using the girl's loopy scrawl, Hermione started in on Professor Vector's homework. Valouris was a bright witch, but she had the snotty attitude that came with being a Malfoy, an air of "I'm too good to do this common work." 

Amazing. Just like Malfoy. 

Malfoy. Crap! She was supposed to meet him at nine! Glancing at the floating clock beside her she realized that she was three minutes late. She dove off the bed and re-sealed it before hurrying down the stairs, attempting to look haughty in her haste. How did Malfoy act like this all the time? It was exhausting! 

Remembering that she no longer had her Head Girl badge to save face for being out in the halls this late, she was careful, despite her tardiness, so that she did not run into a stern Professor McGonagall or Filch. 

Skirting Peeves who was blowing out the torches lighting the hallway, she slipped into the unused classroom she and Malfoy had designated as their meeting place. She had no sooner opened the door when he growled "You're late." 

"I lost track of time," she huffed, shutting the door and placing a quick Locking, Silencing, and Intruder Charm. Moody had taught them the last one two months ago after this plan had come into fruition and it was now simply a ritual that the last person to enter the room cast the spells. Needless to say, Malfoy had become quite good at them.

Hermione turned to Malfoy who was balancing a cauldron above the Blue Bell flames and quickly dug the thick tome out of her "ugly" satchel. Atrum quod Ignotus. She fingered the worn gold words and flipped through the musty pages until landing on the one they needed. She set it down gently next to the cauldron; this book was worth more than their lives. 

"Want to start now? Or should we talk first?" Malfoy asked, adjusting the flames. 

"No, no, let's start. We can talk after we add the Boomslang skin," she answered hastily, delaying the inevitable. She knew he knew what she was doing, but she didn't care. She needed more time to think. 

They worked quietly as they had for the past month. The last potion was difficult and time consuming, the counter-potion was downright alarming. Any wrong move could not only screw up everything they had worked for, it could take the whole school down with them. They had to be perfect. 

The silence, usually productive and comforting to Hermione, was killing her. She could practically feel him breathing. The conversation of earlier weighed heavily between them as she chopped knotgrass into three-centimeter bits. She worried over what he must think of her and whether she was really able to pull this scheme off now that the bar had been raised. 

_You can't think about it,_ Hermione scolded. _You just have to do it. Everything is riding on this, Harry is counting on you, the_ Order _is counting on you. Having sex with Blaise Zabini will be_ nothing _compared to what you're throwing yourself into._

She took up the stirring as Malfoy sliced the Boomslang with skilled precision. _Three stirs counter-clock wise, half-stir clockwise. Three stirs counter-clockwise, quarter-stir clockwise, stop. Wait four seconds, three stirs counter-clockwise..._ She kept the mantra in her head until she nodded to Malfoy to add the Boomslang, counting her stirs as he nudged her gently aside to drop it in. The small contact had her heart bounding and when he slammed down the lid she set the timer to one hour, twenty-six minutes, and four seconds, she slumped gratefully into the nearest chair. She looked up at Malfoy who was leaning against the table as if he hadn't a care in the world. She envied his cool. 

"You can't flinch when he kisses you," he stated suddenly, making her flinch then wince at her reaction. 

"It was noticeable?" 

"Longbottom would have noticed it if he hadn't been shoving his rotund face with the nearest roll." 

"I'm sorry," she sighed, twisting her finger once more. "I'm just not used to this sort of thing." 

"You need to relax, Granger," he said nonchalantly, crossing his arms and legs. Hermione snorted derisively. 

"Yes, alright, I'll relax when I forget that the future of our world may rest upon my performance in Zabini's bed." 

He grinned then. "I highly doubt you'll make it to his bed at all." 

"Malfoy, please," she begged, looking up at his amused face. "Don't make this a joke." 

"There's your first problem, Granger," he insisted. "Loosen up! If you really think about it, this _is_ a completely ridiculous situation. A good laugh or two might make things easier." 

"Oh, ha, ha, I find losing my virginity in order to complete a mission _so_ humorous." 

"Your second problem," he continued, pushing off the table and moving to a chair next to hers. He scooted the chair so close to hers that their arms brushed when he sat and she started.

"Is that," he finished. 

"What?" 

"Would you _relax_? We've been working together for months now; I think you should know that I'm not going to hex you." 

Glaring over at him, Hermione realized he was right. She should trust him by now. She _did_ trust him, it was just…he was so close and… _Alright, loosen up. You can do this_. 

She tried to heed his advice, really, but his mere presence had her on edge. 

"Take a deep breath," he suggested. She stared at him quizzically. Since when had Draco Malfoy been so…nice? She regarded him warily but did as he said, closing her eyes. She tried to focus on the centering factor her mum's yoga lessons had stressed so intensely.

She failed. 

"It's no use," she huffed, dropping her head into her hands. All that came to mind was Blaise Zabini _rutting_ against her like some sweaty pig and how much it would hurt. How long did encounters typically take? What if she got too nervous and ran? What if she sneezed while he was kissing her? Would he want her to put her mouth on his… _thing_ _?_

So absorbed was she in her mental wanderings, she never even noticed Malfoy had left his seat until his hands were on her shoulders. She nearly jumped out of her skin but he just chuckled. 

_"Relax."_

She tried to, really. She focused solely on her breathing and when his hands started to massage her tense shoulders she began to melt into them. It felt so exquisite; she couldn't remember the last time someone had given her a massage. In fact, she didn't think anyone ever _had._

Malfoy lifted her heavy hair and twisted it onto her right shoulder so his thumbs could find the knots in her neck. She moaned softly in sheer bliss and when his lips pressed against that spot right below her ear she nearly whimpered before her eyes flew open in shock. Those lips trailed her hairline and shivers erupted on her skin. In the back of her mind she knew that they shouldn't be doing this…but it felt so _good._ His hands kneaded her shoulders and moved to the uptight muscles above her breasts.

"Wha-what are you doing?" she breathed, realizing that she was swaying slightly with the movement of his hands. Good Merlin, those hands…

"Don't think about it," he whispered, taking her earlobe into his hot mouth and sucking on it, making her gasp. Her nether-regions clenched in approval. "Just feel. Just react."

So, for the first time in her life, she let her feelings take her over as a warm tingle spread throughout her body, pooling low in her belly. 

_"Malfoy,"_ she whispered, her eyes closing as his fingertips trailed down her arms and back up as his lips traveled lazily down her neck, nipping at her nape. She couldn't explain the sensations rampaging through her body, all she knew was that there was a longing that only he could fill... 

Realization hit her like a ton of bricks. 

She shot to her feet faster than if someone had hurled a Stinging Hex at her and rounded on him. "Malfoy, you don't have to do this," she said hurriedly, her voice quaking. "I spoke earlier out of desperation. This isn't your problem; I won't force you to do anything you'd object to-" 

"Does it look like you're forcing me?" he drawled, side-stepping the chair and advancing on her until she was backed into the table. She gave a fleeting glance at the potion sitting not a meter away until his hands slammed down onto the table on either side of her and she forgot all about the potion. He was so close she could feel his breath whisper across her face. Her body had never felt so sensitive. 

"We're in this together, Granger, for good or for bad. I don't forget what you're risking for me." She shivered again at his low, husky tone, that warmth washing over her once more. But she shook her head and gathered her wits which seemed to have fled at his touch. 

"If you're doing this out of some misplaced sense of obligation then-" 

"Damn it, Granger!" he thundered, his silver eyes flashing. "I'm not doing this because I feel obligated. I'm doing this because I want to. My obligation is just a reason it's happening now and not later."

With that, his lips crashed down upon hers, his confession ringing in her ears. Hermione was fully unprepared for the onslaught of emotions which ripped through her at this sudden shift in their relationship. Her heart hammered in her throat and her knees went limp at the delicious feeling of Malfoy's lips upon hers. An arm circled her waist, holding her up, which was a good thing for she didn't think her legs would support her any longer. His soft, warm mouth plied hers apart, coaxing her into responding, which she did so gladly. His fingers were massaging her lower back while his other hand lost itself in her curls. His words consumed her as much as his kisses which were getting more ardent, more persuasive. She couldn't catch her breath and when his tongue made its way through her parted lips to caress hers she moaned, and this time not in disgust.

It felt right, so right, to have him kissing her like this, to feel these things. She'd spent too many nights in his presence not to notice that he had grown, that he had changed. Gone was the annoying little prat with the slicked back hair and the look as if there was constantly dung under his nose. In its place stood a hardened man whose harsh life was evident in his smoldering eyes and athletic body. She'd watched the way he moved, like a panther ready to strike with effortless grace. He never hurried but took in all pieces and deliberated, unlike she who took everything at once until she was frazzled and worn. He was sleek, beautiful, quietly intelligent. He hid his pain behind sarcasm and was the hardest worker the Order had. 

And he was kissing her with more passion than she could have ever imagined. 

Malfoy pressed her further against the table, her body bowing back, arching into his. She couldn't get close enough, couldn't get that contact she so desperately needed. He lifted her suddenly and placed her on the edge of the table, sidling his way between her legs where he rubbed his rather _large_ erection against her core. She gasped in surprise and arousal while he continued his assault on her mouth. On a whim, she wrapped her legs around his hips pressing him harder against that burning ache. He groaned. 

"Fuck, Granger," he growled against her lips before trailing those kisses down her throat, burning a line of fire onto her skin. The hand that had been on her back made its way down her hip to her bare thigh where he squeezed and pulled her harder against his stiff cock, undulating against her and making her whimper.

Hermione's entire body was on fire, every touch seemed to burn and she was soon crazy with a need she'd never felt before. His fingers found her knickers on the underside of her bum and toyed with the hem. She suddenly wanted his fingers elsewhere, the idea making her hot with desire and slight mortification at the wanton thought. But as his lips took hers again and he began pulling on her jumper she forgot her embarrassment, caught up in a moment of crazed need. 

Her grey cashmere hit the floor and his lithe fingers went to the buttons of her white Oxford. Her own hands began an exploration of his covered chest and she wondered what his skin would feel like against her own. 

She had to feel him. So she tugged his own shirttails from the waistband of his trousers until she could slip her small hands beneath it. He was smooth, so soft, with hard muscles that made her weak. She ran her hands up his strong back and sides, so intent on her survey that she didn't realize he had already undone the front clasp on her bra until his hands were on her bare breasts. She gasped at the sensation while he groaned and she tried to pull away, utterly mortified. She knew she was small and she didn't want him to reject her because of it. But he pulled away just enough to look down at her, pushing aside the material of her bra and shirt so that she was exposed entirely, her hands grasping the edge of the table to hold herself up. His lips were slightly parted and he was panting softly, his eyes drinking in the sight before him. 

"Gods, you're beautiful," he muttered, his hands cupping her dainty mounds once more, those eyes roving back to hers. He captured her mouth again with vigor while one hand snuck its way between them to rub against her aching center. She shuddered and rocked against him as shards of heat ripped through her at the contact. He nibbled on her lower lip and her breath became ragged, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as he caressed her outside her knickers. Oh, how she wanted those fingers beneath them.

He pressed her back until she was lying against the table. He grinned above her as if he could read her thoughts and stood, hooking his fingers on the band of her knickers and pulling them down her legs and off. She quickly smoothed down her skirt to cover up, her heart pounding in her throat, but he moved her hands away gently. 

"I want to see all of you," he breathed, his eyes imploring. Swallowing hard, Hermione realized she could deny him nothing right at this moment and nodded. She blushed as he lifted her skirt until it bunched around her hips then spread her thighs so that she was completely bare for him to see. She'd never been this naked in front of another human being since she had learned to dress herself, but the look on Malfoy's face eased her anxiety. 

"So perfect," he murmured, his hands rubbing her thighs slowly, the pads of his thumbs making circles towards her core until she was quaking with need. 

"Malfoy," she whispered. He looked up at her then, locking eyes, and she felt closer to his soul than anyone else had ever been. A corner of his mouth lifted- and then he disappeared. She sat up to see if he had fallen, but when his tongue brushed her slit she almost screamed. Horrified, she made to push him away but he simply caught her hand in his, entwining her fingers and continuing his course. A moan broke from her as that daring tongue met that sensitive bundle of nerves which had been burning since the first time he'd touched her. When she made no more effort to stop him, his hands came to her ankles and he propped her heels on the table, opening her even more to his advances, ignoring her weak protests that even she didn't believe. Her fingernails captured the table, digging in as he continued to lick, kiss and suck at her. A groan escaped her lips before she could stop it and she had to fight to keep her hips still, her eyes from closing. 

"Don't think," he reminded her, his breath ghosting over her center. His command wasn't a difficult one to follow, it was so hard to think of anything other than what he was doing to her, especially when one long finger met her opening, circling it before plunging in. She cried out, her hips whipping off the table, her head snapping back. He pumped her slowly, in, out, in, out, until she wanted to die, his tongue never slowing against her hood. She couldn't stay still, couldn't keep quiet, and when another finger joined the first, hooking up, she felt that ball of need choking her. 

"Let it go, Hermione," he instructed, standing and taking her lips with his once more while she grabbed at him desperately. His fingers quickened their pace, pounding into her as that ball rose up, swelling inside her until it broke, taking her with it, shattering her into a thousand pieces, light and sound snapping apart. She rode out the spasms, his fingers never stopping, lengthening her pleasure, his other arm holding her tight against him.

She came back to earth gasping, spent, her entire body tingling. He laid her back onto the table and she realized several things all at once: her hands were clenched in Malfoy's silky hair at the base of his neck, he was panting as if he'd just run a marathon, and she had just received her first orgasm from the man who had been her rival since her first day at Hogwarts. 

"Don't," Malfoy gasped despondently. "Don't start that mind back up, not yet. Let me have you for a few more minutes." 

Her mind reeled. What was he saying? 

His fingers slid from her and he caught her up, holding her tightly as he kissed her again. He drugged her once more with those lips and she cupped his face, holding him still so she could give back what he had given her.

But then he pulled away, his hands coming to her wrists and prying her palms from his face. He stared at her for a long moment before swallowing, his Adam's apple bobbing. 

"You should go," he said raggedly. She didn't ask why, she didn't tarry, suddenly all-too aware of the situation. Tugging the front of her robes shut she ran, grabbing her bag on the way, ripping the door open and tearing down the hall. Stumbling into the first classroom she found, she fell against a desk, gulping for air. Her knees gave out and she sank to the cold stone floor, her entire body trembling. Shaky fingers did up the front clasp of her bra and the buttons on her shirt. She'd left her sweater on the floor in the classroom, but she sure as hell wasn't going to go back for it. Thinking about her shameless behavior, she didn't think she could ever face Malfoy again. 

It took several minutes before she was composed enough to stand and walk back to her dorm. Blaise summoned her over the moment she stepped into the common room and her heart sank, but as Pansy hurried to her with a mug in her hand she knew she couldn't avoid them. She took the mug and sat next to her boyfriend, endured the arm that came around her shoulders and the hour of mindless chatter that followed. Her head spinning from Firewhiskey and post-orgasmic bliss, Hermione sank onto her bed exhausted and confused as she'd ever been.

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XOXO

RynStar15


	4. Epistolas ab Malfoys

Hermione woke after a restless night, her head pounding and her body heavy with fatigue. Stumbling to the showers, she remembered with easy clarity what it was like to not have to worry about her appearances. Hermione Granger didn't have to primp and do ridiculous spells to ready for the day; all she required was a shower and breakfast. _Valouris,_ however, mandated much more assembly. It was that much more difficult to do with four other girls hogging the bathroom instead of two and the fact that she had no idea what she was doing. Gazing into Valouris' pale complexion, she studied a picture she had taken with Blaise and tried to do her hair in the same fashion, the makeup just right. The end result was nowhere near what was in the photo, but it would have to do. 

At breakfast, she snapped that she wished to be left alone and looked up only when an owl dropped in front of her. Heart in her throat, she untied the scroll from the bird's leg and unrolled it as the animal took off, spraying Millicent with hot cereal. 

The nerves at the sight of a letter calmed when she recognized the neat scrawl, but went into palpitations at the words. 

_Tonight at nine._

She wanted to tear it into little pieces but shoved it into her expensive leather bag instead. She could feel his eyes on her but she refused to meet them, her cheeks burning with mortification. 

How was she ever supposed to face him again? 

"Excited for tomorrow?" 

The voice almost had her jumping out of her skin, but she faked a smile and turned to her boyfriend. 

"Oh, Blaise, I have bad news!" she simpered, watching as his face fell. "Slughorn is making me do extra potions with Granger Saturday night." 

Blaise turned his gaze to the Gryffindor table and Hermione wondered if he would pick a fight. "Have you talked to Slughorn about it? Maybe he'll make an exception…" 

"Of course!" she lied all too easily. "But he's siding with the Mudblood as always. I'm too far behind." 

Blaise looked ready to hex Draco but Hermione put a placating hand on his arm. 

"Let this one slide," she crooned. "We'll get back at him some other way." 

The corner of his mouth rose. "Cheeky bastard won't be smiling in a couple weeks now, will he?" 

Hermione felt uneasy about this statement. In a couple weeks, she would turn eighteen. Was that what he was referring to? 

"No, he won't," she agreed nervously. 

Blaise tried to cajole her into Sunday night but she shot it down as well saying she needed time to study and classes were early on Monday. It seemed that even as a Malfoy, Hermione was a top student because Blaise didn't argue, though he looked miffed. 

"In a couple weeks these classes won't have meant anything," Pansy whined, poking at her eggs. "I don't know why we even have to pretend anymore." 

"Because that's the plan, Parkinson," Blaise snapped darkly. "Or do you think you have a better one than our Master?" 

"N-no, of course I don't!" 

"Then shut your little pug face and finish your breakfast."

Hermione tried to give Pansy a "well, you deserved it" look, but her mind reeled. It was true, then. There was a plan, all seeming to center around her eighteenth birthday. 

She felt like a zombie through all her classes, her mind recalculating their plan according to this new information. She had Prefect duties after dinner and as she strolled the halls ushering younger students to bed as rudely as she could manage, her mind was caught up in what it could all mean. What would happen after she took the Dark Mark? What was so important that whatever plan they had needed to wait until she did? Hermione shuddered at the possibilities. 

"Malfoy!" 

Hermione turned at the summons and cringed. "What do you want, Nott?" she seethed. She _really_ wasn't in the mood to deal with the rat-faced punk. 

"Blaise told me to give you this." 

She took the sealed parchment with a nod and watched as a corner of his mouth lifted. A dark look came over his eyes and Hermione wanted to groan in horror as she realized that she'd seen _Theo_ written in loopy scrawl above _Blaise_ on her list. She gave him a scathing look of revulsion. 

"Keep dreaming, Nott. Now get back to the dorm before I write you up for being out after hours." 

His face drew in with resentment and he slinked away muttering something along the lines of "frigid bitch." She waited until he was out of her line of sight and slit the seal open with a dull fingernail. She didn't miss the intricately woven "M," a snake slithering around the first leg of the letter over a shield of arms. Her heart pounded as she unfolded the expensive parchment and it took her a moment to make sense of the strict scrawl. 

_Monday, midnight. Bring Blaise, his mother would like a word._

There was no signature, no greeting. She read it three times through before it ignited and black flames turned it to ash where she dropped it on the floor with a shriek. Well, at least she knew why she couldn't find any letters from Lucius. They all burned as soon as she read them. But she knew the handwriting and knew what it meant. She swallowed and closed her eyes, not opening them until an owl hooted in the distance, stirring her from her thoughts. Shaking herself, she looked down at her watch and realized she was once again running late to meet Malfoy. 

She hurried to the dungeons but slowed once she was outside the door, remembering what had occurred the night before just behind it. She had known that she and Malfoy were closer than was probably smart, but it was inevitable with the amount of time they had spent together formulating a plan and then executing it. The potion had taken so much work and then the late nights spent giving each other the information they'd need to survive, practicing spells with one another… It was hard to not drop their guard with each other just a little. Keeping up the antagonizing behavior was exhausting and they had been running on empty as it was. Once they had realized that there was no time or use for bickering they had fallen into stony civility, then some kind of mutual acceptance of each other, and finally a comfortable companionship.

And she had been fine with that, thrilled even, to have a… well, maybe not a _friend,_ but at least a partner she could converse with on some sort of intellectual level. It made what they were going into easier to know that they had each other's backs. They couldn't survive this without one another and trust had been a problem (a very large one) at first. But now that Hermione knew Malfoy better, she knew without a doubt that he would see her through this. He understood the consequences if they didn't complete this mission as well as what would happen when they returned. She shuddered at the thought of having to abandon her family the way he had in order to do this task. He had pointed out that sending her folks to Australia brain-washed had been essentially the same thing but despite her doubts, Hermione _had_ to believe she'd see them again. Malfoy likely would not, unless it was across a battlefield. 

Sighing, she chided herself for delaying. As embarrassing as this situation was, Malfoy _was_ only trying to help. She should be thanking him, not childishly avoiding him as she'd done all day. She would never be ready for Blaise on her own. This was the only preparation she would have. 

And they could not fail. 

Taking a deep breath, she strode through the door, barely glancing at the attractive blonde before turning bright scarlet and twisting around to cast the necessary spells. She stayed there staring at the wood paneling while she scolded her nerves into check. _Damn it!_ Why was she so…so… _prude?_

He cleared his throat and she jolted, nearly groaning in mortification as she did so. She knew if she turned around he would have that infuriating little smirk across his perfectly pale face and she wanted to bash her head against the wall until she passed out and wouldn't have to witness it.

When she finally gathered the courage to turn around, she was surprised to see that Malfoy wasn't even looking at her. 

"Could you grab me the Lacewing flies? They're in the blue vial in my bag." 

He continued to stir as if very concentrated on the potion before him, but she knew better. He was just trying to give her time to compose herself. Great, _another_ thing she'd have to thank him for. But she took the time he graciously gave her and found the Lacewing flies right on top. Counting out the correct amount her head, she handed them to him and he dropped them in one by one, diligently stirring the entire time. She took more time than was necessary to put the stopper back on the vial knowing that there was nothing else they needed to do with the potion for the next three days. 

"I got a note from Lucius," she remembered suddenly. It was easier to talk about this, somehow, than it was to talk about what had happened last night. It made no sense seeing as how the note was a summons to appear before the Dark Lord and therefore a very real threat. She seriously needed to get her priorities straight... 

Hermione looked up to see Malfoy's shoulders stiffen from where he continued to stir the potion. "What did it say?" 

"Monday, midnight. It also said to bring Blaise because his mother needed to see him." 

He nodded. "Anything else?" 

"No. That was it." 

"He was always one to cut to the chase. Can I see it?" 

"No, it caught fire and turned to ash as soon as I read it." 

"Typical." 

He didn't say anything more for a moment and she let him stew in silence, plucking at invisible pieces of fluff on her sweater. She blushed when she remembered that she'd left hers here last night. Luckily, her Malfoy-self had at least a two-week stock. The trunk at the foot of her bed had a full wardrobe hidden in its bowels including silk and satin dress robes she was certain weren't worn around the school. 

After a few tense minutes, Malfoy placed the lid on the cauldron and set the timer before turning to her and sizing her up, his expression unreadable.

"Are you going to be alright?" 

Hermione knew he was talking about the meeting Monday, so she put on a brave smile and looked up at him. "If you can do it, I can." 

He met her eyes for just a moment and gave a curt nod before taking his normal relaxed pose and leaning against the table before her, crossing his arms and ankles. 

"Speak to Blaise today?" 

"Yes, I told him we would be doing Potions with Slughorn Saturday night." 

"How did he take it?" 

"He wanted to curse you into the Dark Ages," she replied, a small smile creeping into the right corner of her mouth. Malfoy let out a sharp laugh. 

"I can imagine. He hated you almost as much as I did, _Leon_ stands no chance." 

She snorted softly, unsure of how to reply to that, and the conversation drifted into non-existence. When she lifted her head to begin her apology about her abysmal behavior, she barely had time to register his immediate proximity before his lips were on hers, taking her mercilessly. She whimpered in surprise and he caught her up, hard and tight against his body. Malfoy worked her mouth expertly and Hermione's thoughts whirled to a close as sensations racked her body. She was so consumed by the heat of the moment she forgot that this was exactly what she came here to prevent. 

When his kiss became more ardent she fought to rise above the overwhelming need to climb his body like an arborist and take everything she could. Reluctantly, she wrenched away as much as the table she was trapped against allowed, placing her hands on his chest when he made to dive back in. 

"Malfoy, we need to talk about this-" 

"This is exactly the kind of thing you need to prepare for, Granger," he growled, sucking her earlobe into his mouth, making her purr. "Blaise isn't one to wait around forever."

Sweet Merlin, how was his breath so hot and... seductive? How could the exhalation of carbon dioxide be _seductive?_ And how could something as ridiculous as the tracing of the shell of her ear with his bottom lip turn her knees to jelly?

Hermione shook herself as she realized he was still speaking, her muddled mind struggling to comprehend his words.

"-he could come up on you at any moment. You can't shy away. Show me what you'll do." 

Her heart sank. Malfoy was testing her, that was all. She rolled it around in her brain, trying not to feel abject disappointment. He wasn't doing this because he suddenly found the plain, boring Mudblood attractive, he was doing it to prepare his partner for the weeks ahead.

Well, if it was a test he was giving, she was sure as hell going to ace it. Hermione Granger had never failed a test in her life and this wasn't going to be the first. 

Without further ado, she grabbed the back of his platinum head and yanked him down to her, taking his mouth and pretending, just for a heart wrenching moment, that this was for real, that this wasn't for the sake of practicing for _Blaise Zabini_. Because if Hermione was truly honest with herself, she knew that she had gotten too close to Malfoy and cared far too much about him. But she also knew, with sinking regret, that Malfoy would never feel that way for her. So, she would take what she could get, even if it was fake, and be grateful. 

His soft moan when she bit his lip spurred her on. Never having done anything even _remotely_ close to what they were doing now, she wasn't sure what her next step should be. She reckoned he'd noticed her hesitancy when he grabbed her hands and brought them around the front of his neck to his tie. _Ah, that._ Obviously Valouris would undress him right away and know how to do it properly. But did Malfoy really expect to…tonight? 

It was as if he had read her mind when her body suddenly stiffened. He chuckled softly against her lips, plucking at them soothingly. "Don't worry, I don't plan on crossing that particular barrier just yet." 

Hermione ripped her mouth away from his drugging lips. "Y-yet?" she stuttered, her hands frozen against his tie. "But I thought…" 

"Granger, I'm not going to throw you to the wolves," Malfoy murmured, rubbing his knuckles along her cheek in a tender gesture, his eyes dark. "We're in this together. I promised Potter I would do whatever I could to keep you safe and I intend on keeping that promise. I understand this is not an ideal situation and I'm sorry that you will not be able to, er, _keep_ yourself for someone… _special,_ but-" 

"No, Malfoy," she stopped him, her hands on his chest, not able to meet his eye in her innocent embarrassment "Thank you. For everything. Really, I-I appreciate it more than I can say. I know you didn't plan on, well, doing… _you know…_ with- with me, but just the same I-"

"Granger," he growled, lifting her chin so she was forced to look at him. "You're a beautiful witch, I'm in no way put-out by this arrangement." He smirked cheekily in an attempt to lighten the mood. "Though I will have to ask that you leave out this little, ah, s _ide_ mission in your report when we return as I would rather like to keep my bollocks and I have a feeling Potter and Weasley would feel obligated to remove them in defense of your virtue."

Hermione choked out a soft laugh at the image of Harry and Ron rounding on Malfoy, his hands protecting his family jewels as they shot hexes at him.

"Yes, I believe it will be for the best if we keep this particular complication to ourselves," she agreed with a small smile. "Although you should fear Molly's ire far more than the boys. She accidently knocked Harry out cold after sending him into the wall when she found him snogging Ginny on her bed."

His eyes widened in shock and slight fear. "Duly noted." 

An awkward silence filled the room and he chuckled, rubbing her arms and backing away. "Well, now that the mood is gone, I suppose we should practice our dueling. Mind if we work on that Shield Charm again? You still seem to get me with that damn Stinging Hex every time." 

Eager to delay the uncomfortable proposition, they trained with the Advanced Shield Charm Moody had taught them not long before they'd left. By the time Malfoy finally blocked one of Hermione's more difficult spells, they were both sweating and aching.

Hermione felt confident that she'd made him forget all about earlier, but as soon as she turned to put her sweater back on (which she'd shed an hour previous) his arms came around her, his lips finding a sweet spot behind her ear. She jumped and he snickered softly, not stopping his advances, his lips travelling her hairline as she'd piled it carelessly atop her head in a bun while they'd dueled. She remembered what he'd said about being prepared for Blaise to do this sort of thing, so she closed her eyes and enjoyed the goosebumps that stole over her skin at the sensual contact. She allowed her hands go to the back of his head and finger his soft hair, his smooth neck, enjoying the attention.

He spun her around and she looked up at his flushed face, tendrils of flaxen clinging to his temples from their earlier exertion. When he kissed her this time she was ready and she took what he had taught her thus far to show him that she could deal with this. This was just another exercise, not unlike the one they had just finished. Another preparation for the tasks ahead. She didn't let herself think about the fact that she would have to let a complete stranger do this to her, simply indulged in the gentle thrum making its way through her body. 

When she walked into her dormitory nearly an hour later, she couldn't remember ever being more relaxed. Blaise and her girl crew had already gone to bed by the time she'd gotten to the common room so there was no delay as she went straight up to bed. When she got there, however, all the happiness she'd felt from their heady make-out session was swept away when she saw a note propped against the mug of potion she had yet to identify. Slitting the familiar seal, she saw only one word.

 _Now._

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Draco sighed heavily as he dropped his heavy bag onto his overlarge four-poster and reveled in the silence of his own dorm room. He'd shaken off Potter and Weasley in the common room claiming that he had a test in Arithmancy to study for since neither of them took the class to verify. 

Unbuttoning his Oxford (which he'd only _just_ re-buttoned), he strode to the large window which looked out over the grounds, giving him an excellent view of the Forbidden Forest and lake. The Giant Squid was undulating slowly in the black depths, the bright spring moon glinting off his scales.

Draco cracked the window open and let the cool breeze assail him, taking a deep, centering breath. He knew he shouldn't have taken Granger up on her offer; he was diving face-first into waters darker than the Black Lake before him, and he didn't know the first thing about swimming in this kind. Kissing her, touching her, making her come undone beneath him, just to send her off to Blaise like a piece of meat was comparable to ripping out his own teeth. It was physically painful every time she sighed or moaned knowing that the only reason she was doing this was for Blaise's benefit, that she would never have thought twice about kissing him if she hadn't been thrust into this impossible situation.

He'd never wanted to murder his best friend more than he did right now. Of course, Blaise had no idea that it was Granger, but it didn't matter. She deserved far better than that lazy scoundrel whose only claim to fame was his whore mother's Gringotts vault.

Then again, Granger deserved better than Draco, too. But _he_ at least knew her, knew what she was like, knew her ticks and her habits, her strengths and her weaknesses, knew her better than even Potty and Weasel. He knew that her eyes would light up every time she perfected a spell, knew her hair would frizz all to Hades if she stood close to the potion for too long, knew she would bite her nails down to stubs when she was worried about something.

He had seen the pain in her eyes after she'd sent her parents away to Australia for their own safety, had seen the frustrated tears she hid when she couldn't figure out a way to help Potter. Draco was the only one who would ever know the extent to which she would go to save the wizarding world, the sacrifices she'd make. He was the only one who knew she needed a Dreamless Sleep Potion to rest most nights, the only one who knew that her biggest fear was that she would never be enough. 

_Damn,_ he swore inwardly, his knuckles turning white on the window sill. How had he not seen this coming? How had he not anticipated the fact that he was falling head-over-bloody-heels for _Granger_ of all people? He, Draco Malfoy, the heartless prat of Hogwarts, had a soft spot for the Mudblood. He laughed sardonically. Well, _Pureblood_ for now. 

A movement below shook him of his reverie and Draco squinted into the night to see what it was. A lone figure moved stealthily across the grounds towards the forest. The only thing he could distinguish from this distance was long, bushy brown hair, but it was the only evidence he needed. Swearing under his breath, his heart in his throat, he snatched Potter's Invisibility Cloak from his trunk and dashed out the door, donning it just in time to avoid Granger's idiot friends who were finally headed to bed. Cursing the foolish witch under his breath, he ran full on for the portrait hole. 

He was going to murder her.

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LissaDream: I had no idea you had stories, it was fun to read them! Hoping to get to the others soon! And I'm glad you enjoyed BTC, my very first fanfic! Almost done with the next chapter!

BoredRavenclaw620: It's all about the UST! Glad you approve ;)

AuraAuthor: Hey! You didn't scream in a review! Lol, is that a good thing?! :P

A/N: So much love to all my followers and favorites! Thanks for joining!

XOXO

RynStar15


	5. Consortia vel Consilia

Hermione hugged her cloak closer, the air unseasonably cold from the presence of Dementors all over the country. She glanced around nervously and told herself to stop fretting, that she had been preparing for this for months, though she wished she'd had a few more days to acclimate or at least enough time to wake Malfoy…

Her feet made no noise on the dewy ground as she slipped beneath the shadows of the Forbidden Forest and trekked the path she and Malfoy had walked more times than she cared to remember. The quarter moon filtered weakly through leaves of the swaying trees above her and the soft sounds of animals rustling unseen made her clutch her wand tighter in her hand. She should have woken Malfoy, as was the protocol if either of them left the castle, but she didn't want to linger any more than was necessary. She had no way of knowing how long the note had been there.

She came to the clearing, a little winded from the rush, and looked around, her eyes straining through the night for she dared not light her wand. Malfoy had warned her that Death Eaters worked in the darkness and the light would give her away immediately.

The clearing had been made strategically for these meetings. When Malfoy had surreptitiously joined their side, he had warned that he would need a safe place to communicate with his father, so this small chink in the wards had been crafted. Though Malfoy had claimed his father had no desire to lay siege on a school full of children, they took no chances, making it so only a Malfoy could pass the barrier while others would be incinerated on the spot.

Once perfected, Malfoy had insisted to his father he had found the weak spot in the wards himself and proceeded to meet his sire in secret, relaying all information back to their ears. He'd walked Hermione here many times over the last few months so that she may make the trek alone in case something happened to him, though she knew he'd be peeved when he found out she'd gone alone tonight.

A twig snapped to her left and a tall cloaked figure emerged from the gloom.

"What kept you?"

Hermione was taken aback. The voice was feminine and familiar but Hermione couldn't quite place it. It wasn't, however, Lucius, the man she had figured she was meeting with. But the Malfoy crest on the scroll… Narcissa?

"Extra potions lessons with Slughorn," Hermione replied, keeping her voice even as if she had known who she was meeting all along. Narcissa lowered her hood, her brow raised in suspicion. She was just as strikingly beautiful as the first time Hermione had met her at the Quidditch World Cup. She looked, perhaps, gaunter, as if the last few years had taken their toll.

"You have fallen behind. That is not acceptable."

Hermione attempted to produce the most indifferent, arrogant expression she could. She didn't figure Valouris as one to apologize.

"Has Zabini proposed yet?" Narcissa asked, her steely eyes hard.

"No, but Greengrass overheard him speaking of it to Nott. He was supposed to tomorrow but Slughorn has made sure that won't happen."

The older woman's face grew hard. "You have been putting this off too long, Valouris! We haven't much time. Your year is almost up; we have less than three weeks to pull this off. You must secure this, do you understand? Do not tarry! Make a date for Sunday; your father will see a ring on your finger before the next meeting. You know what will happen if you do not."

Hermione nodded and swallowed. This match with Blaise, it seemed, was far more important than she had originally thought. "It will be done."

"Be sure it is. Have you been taking your potion?"

"Yes."

"Every night, do not miss a single one. We must ensure you are as fertile as possible; we only have one chance at this. We are counting on you."

Hermione nodded again, barely able to conceal her shock. _Fertile?_ She was taking a _fertility_ potion?

"Good. I don't know why your grades are suddenly slipping but you must excel; do not let your father know you are falling behind. Top scores on your N.E.W.T's will secure your position in the Ministry. If everything works as it should you needn't worry, but we must always be prepared."

"Yes ma'am."

Narcissa eyed her for a moment. "You received your father's note?"

"Yes. Monday at-"

 _Smack!_

"Shut your mouth!" Narcissa hissed as Hermione gasped and clutched her cheek. "What is wrong with you, child?"

Hermione knew better than to answer. She straightened her back and looked the woman who was now her mother in the eye.

"Nowhere is safe, do you hear me? You know better than this, have we not taught you better than this? Answer me!"

A second slap followed the first and Hermione had to grit her teeth against the stinging pain before straightening once more. "Yes."

"If your father were here…" she breathed, her face inches from Hermione's, her jaw clenched in anger. "We will not tolerate anything less than perfection from you, do you understand me?"

"Yes."

"You are in enough trouble as it is. The Dark Lord does not forget your failure last year. If you had been the son we wanted we wouldn't be in this position, but as you decided to take that option from us the day you were born you must work harder to prove yourself. You have one last chance at redemption, do you understand?"

Hermione nearly snorted in derision. Yes, as a newborn she was completely responsible for a difficult birth, plotting against her parents so that they couldn't have any more children. Was this woman serious?

"Yes ma'am."

Narcissa drew herself up to her imposing height, her eyes never leaving Hermione's. "Get back to your dorms and not a word of this to your father. If he asks, you received this in the mail. Make sure you look presentable, I don't know what is wrong with you today but it's despicable. You must not lack in anything, especially appearance. Kiss your mother now and hurry back."

Hermione grabbed a small black box from Mrs. Malfoy's cold fingers and tucked it in her robes. Without looking at her, Hermione dusted a chaste kiss on the woman's cheek and took off back the way she had come.

She waited until she was far enough away to not be seen and ran full-out, the cold air rushing against her, branches and thorns tearing at her cloak and hair. Eyes on the dark path so as not to trip over exposed roots, she let out a startled shriek when she ran into something hard and warm.

"Shh, it's me!"

The sound of Malfoy's voice had her knees weak with relief and he gripped her arms tightly as she swayed.

"Are you alright?" he asked nervously, his wand at the ready, his eyes searching for danger.

"I'm fine," she panted, but his free arm curled around her, dragging her into his chest, stilling her movements.

"Someone might have heard you," he murmured, his wand aloft in Moody-like vigilance. He held her tightly and looked around; making sure no one had overheard her yell. Hermione didn't even dare to breathe, her ears straining past the rush of blood for any sign of an intruder. They stood there, Hermione clutching the front of Malfoy's robes, his arms protectively around her, for several moments to be sure any danger had passed. When he was satisfied they were alone, Malfoy drew her back roughly, his eyes murderous.

"What the bloody hell are you doing out here?" he hissed.

"I should ask you the same thing!"

"Following you! I saw you from the window, where were you off to in such a hurry?" he questioned scathingly. Her heart dropped. Was he really accusing her of sneaking around behind his back?

"To meet your mother," she snapped, irritated, shrugging from his grip.

"My-what?"

"Your mother. There was a note summoning me immediately when I got to my dormitory."

"Why didn't you tell me? You shouldn't be out here alone," he growled.

"I didn't have time," she huffed. "Besides, I think I can handle myself."

"That's not the point, Granger." His eyes bore into hers and she felt the heat climb into her cheeks despite the chilly air. "What did she want?"

Hermione's stomach churned as she relived every word of their conversation. When she told him about being slapped he studied her cheek, running his fingertips over the still sore skin. His eyes showed long-held pain and Hermione could only imagine what he had gone through as a child. Her heart ached for him; for all that he'd been through and never shown.

He was quiet for a while after she finished as he chewed over what she'd said.

"Are you sure she said 'fertile?'"

"Very sure," she scoffed.

"So they plan on impregnating you?" His voice sounded as incredulous as Hermione felt.

"It seems that way."

"But you're not even out of school, why would they be concerned about that now?"

She sighed. "That would be the question of the hour." When he looked confused at her Muggle saying she shook her head. "Never mind. I really don't know why they would need me to conceive immediately. I suppose they're anxious for the Zabini-Malfoy heir."

"Possibly… but it just doesn't make sense that they would be so concerned with it this early."

"None of this damnable world makes sense," Hermione sighed and he growled in frustration, scrubbing his hair.

"Well, I suppose you can't put him off, then. You'll have to make the date on Sunday," he said, glancing at her apprehensively. Hermione hugged herself, hearing the unspoken words. She nodded, knowing there was no other choice. They were both quiet for a moment until Hermione started shivering.

"Come on, you need to get to bed," Draco said bracingly, motioning towards the castle.

Hermione led the way and neither of them spoke a word. They parted ways at the staircase, their eyes locking for an infinite moment. Hermione wanted to say something, anything, but the words wouldn't come to her. She settled with a stiff smile and headed down to the dungeons.

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.

.

Draco crumpled the Invisibility Cloak and chucked it in his trunk as soon as the door shut on his private dormitory. Cursing the air blue, he grabbed the shrunken bottle of Firewhiskey he'd snuck in his satchel, enlarging it and taking a swig. Even the soft lick of flames in his throat wasn't enough to settle him. He could still see the welt on Hermione's cheek from his mother's hand; still see the fright in her eyes as she'd run away from her. He had felt the trembling that had stolen through her and knew that it had nothing to do with the fact that she might have alerted someone and everything to do with the possibility of having to give birth to Blaise Zabini's child.

But what could they possibly want with the child? Sure, they would expect the young couple to produce an heir, but they had years…why now? What was so different in this world than in the real one? What had Valouris been doing for her intermediate year? For it was the law of the Death Eaters; anyone wishing to join had to prove themselves for one year by doing horrific tasks that the upper Death Eaters deemed necessary. Draco still had nightmares of Dumbledore's death. His failure had led to another year of these so-called tasks, all of which he'd told the Order about on Snape's insistence. They had welcomed him readily and were surprisingly understanding about his position, knowing that in order for their plan to work he had to carry out the tasks he was given, however heinous they seemed. And heinous they were, indeed.

He couldn't believe how lucky he'd been that the Order had taken him in with hardly a word elsewise. Apparently, Dumbledore had been trying to use Snape to get Draco to join them as soon as he was told of Draco's task, so when he had failed to kill his Headmaster, Snape had drug him to Headquarters just before he was murdered for completing Draco's task without permission. The murder of their spy left the Order in a tight spot without any way of knowing what the Death Eaters were up to.

At his own insistence, Draco had gone double-agent for the Order, but without the Mark he had limited access to information. So it was with Draco's help that they were able to formulate this ridiculously complicated plan, which is where Granger had stepped in to save the day. There was plenty of backlash against her proposal, but she refused to back down. She was of-age, perfectly placed, and there was no way the Dark Lord would see this coming.

Only Purebloods and a very select few half-bloods could join the ranks of the Death Eaters. If Draco had completed his mission and taken the Mark, he would have been the youngest Death Eater since Voldemort's rise to power. His failure had led to abject punishment and another year of servitude at the end of which he was to complete another mission: to find the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix.

He had led them on to believe he was gaining the Mudblood's trust to take him there (Granger's idea). When Draco learned that only Secret Keepers could reveal the location, he was stumped as to how he could tell the Death Eaters where to go. Since Granger herself was a Secret Keeper she could lead them to it, but if she showed her face to the Death Eaters she would be murdered on the spot.

It was not long after this complication that she came across a spell in which they could change lives to the outside world but stay themselves to each other until they drank the counter potion – which unfortunately takes a month to make. Granger would take Draco's place and subsequently, his Mark. They would return to their normal lives and she would be summoned to a meeting. When they took her prisoner and tortured her for information, she would tell them where Headquarters was, leading the Death Eaters into a well-placed trap.

But that wasn't all. Granger could be taken prisoner at any time. With the Mark, she was able to infiltrate all of the Death Eater dwellings without alerting anyone, even ones hidden within the Manor itself. She would be the perfectly placed spy, able to find where the snake was being kept and the top Death Eaters resided. She would be able to lead Order members to them and take them out, leaving the Dark Lord vulnerable for the final attack.

And even if the spying and being taken prisoner wasn't enough, there was still one last thing for her to do in Draco's stead.

Draco knew that when someone took the Mark they had to kill. Lucius had already informed Draco of who his victim would be. His mother. It had torn Draco at the thought. He couldn't…she was the only person in the entire world who had possibly loved him, the only person who had shown him any bit of compassion and understanding…the only person who had treated him like a human being, something more than a Death Eater's lackey.

Until Granger, anyway. Granger had always seemed to have an ear, a shoulder and a Shield Charm when he'd felt the need to throw things. She was the only person to stand up for him against her peers, to take away the hardest task he would have ever had to do and shouldering the burden herself. Because that was the type of person she was. She was willing to sacrifice her sanity and her life to help him, the Order, and the entire world as they knew it. When Draco had told her of the things they would do to her to get information she hadn't batted an eye. She would give anything, she said, to see an end to this once and for all.

So now the rest of the Horcruxes had been found and destroyed, the new Headquarters set up, the current one rigged, and all that was left was for the two of them to get through this preposterous alternate-universe month and trick the Death Eaters into a trap before killing the snake and a horde of elite Death Eaters.

Oh, and there was also the little thing about seducing Granger in less than twenty-four hours so Blaise wouldn't know she was a virgin and sending her to get the Dark Mark and possibly her death and letting her kill his mother and allowing Zabini to impregnate her with his child.

Shouldn't be too hard, right?

With a groan, he threw himself on his bed and closed his eyes. He was going to need some rest before tomorrow.

.

.

.

A/N: Hope that cleared up some answers! Nice and easy task as you can see. Shouldn't be any problem at all ;) sorry this one was short, but the next one will be nice and long and oh, so delicious…

Perditrix: Thank you so much! Excited to see your thoughts on this development.

Kou Shun'u: Hoped this cleared things up for you! A little complicated, but things will start to make more sense from now on. And I certainly am glad they not siblings, otherwise last chapter would have been a lot more interesting!

BoredRavenclaw620: And now you know! Was it what you were expecting?

CatwinWo: Aren't they just the best couple? I love working with them. Always "yes-no-I can't-but I have to-but it's wrong-but it's so right!" Angst makes sex SO much hotter!

XOXO

RynStar15


	6. Quid Autem Fiunt Somnia

She couldn't do this. 

Hermione took another deep breath and told herself to calm down, that this wasn't the end of the world. In fact, compared to the tasks she was up to in the next few weeks, this was nothing. Nothing at all. 

Then why did she feel as though she'd rather face down a hundred Death Eaters than walk out that door? Because if she left now, if she started her day, then she would have to go forth with the plan Malfoy had in mind. 

Tonight, she would lose her virginity. 

She'd woken to a note from Malfoy telling her to meet him in the Room of Requirement that night instead of the usual dungeon and all hell had broken loose from there. 

Hermione now genuinely felt for all those women who, for centuries, dreaded their wedding night, the anticipation mounting as they knew exactly when that time would come. The young girls who were dragged up to the alter like sacrificial virgins to seal their fate with a man they had never met before in their life and was probably twice their age. At least Hermione had the decency of knowing her "partner" before tonight. It was more than most of those poor women had. 

Knowing she was delaying, Hermione set her chin and walked out of her dormitory. She resisted the urge to scramble back up the staircase and instead descended with quiet elegance. She was proud of her progress in make-up application and thought her hair looked much more acceptable than the day before. Narcissa's warning about keeping up appearances had spurred her into making an extra effort today. It had absolutely _nothing_ to do with the night ahead. Nothing at all. 

"Ah, there you are!" Blaise called, rising from a chair and striding forward to meet her at the bottom step. "Slept in a bit, did we? Well, no worries, I've had breakfast sent up for you." 

Hermione saw the platter sitting on a coffee table before the fire, a single blood red rose in a vase next to it. Smothering the urge to run from the room, she gave a small smile instead and stood on her tiptoes to kiss his smooth cheek. 

"It's lovely," she said, hoping Valouris was nice about a thing like this, at the very least. He seemed pleased as he ushered her to the food which he had kept warm with a Heating Charm. Not in the least bit hungry and slightly skeptical, Hermione took the opportunity to hide pieces of kipper and bacon and egg in a handkerchief when Blaise was turned away. 

"Might I inquire as to what all this extravagance is about?" Hermione questioned. Blaise looked up at her from the fire where he'd been deep in thought and smiled, leaning forward to take her hand. 

"Do I need a reason to dote upon the love of my life?" he asked, his eyes shadowed. Hermione knew immediately something was wrong, but would Valouris see it as well? She looked around and noticed for the first time that the common room was completely empty even though it was a weekend morning. Was this a normal occurrence or did Blaise have something to do with it?

Anxious to gain the upper-hand, she searched for something to say. Did he have any idea about the Death Eater meetings? Then she remembered Lucius' note from the night before. 

"Blaise," she said lowly even though there was not a soul in sight. "My father has requested you join us Monday evening." 

She gazed at him meaningfully and he nodded very nonchalantly although the bobbing of his Adam's apple gave him away. He gave her a small smile. 

"Of course, my love. All the more reason to enjoy the weekend while we have it! Have you talked to Slughorn about tonight?" 

"Blaise, I told you I couldn't get out of this. Let's just reschedule for tomorrow night, I'll take the evening off of studying," she simpered, turning her hand over in his and twining their fingers as she had with Harry numerous times. Although when she held Harry's hand she felt comfort, not abject loathing. Blaise looked thoroughly disappointed but finally agreed. 

"Aren't you going to eat more?" he asked and Hermione was glad she hadn't had more than a few nibbles of toast. 

"I'm fine, actually," she answered, narrowing her eyes suspiciously at him. What had he put in the breakfast? And why? Was he trying to poison her? But that didn't make sense, he was about to propose to her… 

"Are you feeling alright?" he continued to question. 

"Yes…Blaise, what's with this strange behavior?" Hermione hoped beyond hope that Valouris wasn't as dense as the other Slytherin girls seemed to be. 

"Val…it's just," he looked about to say something but changed his mind and smiled. "I just want to be sure you're ready." 

"Ready for what, exactly?" 

"Don't act coy, it doesn't become you," he said sternly, his eyes turning cold. Hermione started at this abrupt change. 

"Alright. Then are you having doubts about my abilities?" Hermione asked scathingly. 

"No! Of course not!" he backtracked. "I'm just concerned is all." 

_"You_ are? Or someone else?" His face turned hard as she caught on to his antics. "Who have you been talking to?" 

"No one, just drop it," he snapped. "What about you?" 

"What about me?" 

"Who have you been sneaking off to see every night?" 

Hermione concentrated on keeping her face clear and realized what he had put in the breakfast. Veritaserum. He was interrogating her. But why would her future fiancé have reason to interrogate her? 

"I told you, Professor Slughorn has assigned me to Remedial Potions. Every night at nine until he believes me ready for my N.E.W.T's." 

"Is that so?" he leered, leaning back and folding his hands on his chest. "Because I spoke to him about allowing you to take tonight off and he claims he is completely ignorant of you two ever setting these lessons up, let alone that fact that you have been attending them for days." 

_Dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit!_ Of course the sodding Slytherin would sneak behind her back...

"You know it's policy for them not to discuss such things with other students," Hermione replied coolly, placing her full napkin on the platter and sitting back to eye him. "He was probably just trying to protect my privacy. Besides, I don't really see that it's your business to intrude into my personal life." 

"Not my business?" he growled, sitting up hastily. _"Not my_ _business?_ Valouris, you will be my wife! _Everything_ you do is my business!" 

"I was not under the impression we were engaged," Hermione replied sharply. 

Blaise blanched, as much as he could with his dark features, but quickly recovered. "You know we are betrothed…" 

"My parents have no say in what I do," she snapped, guessing that Valouris would be somewhat of a rebel and hoping she wasn't making herself sound like a fool. Things were getting far too deep… 

"But the Dark Lord does." 

Hermione's breath caught at her mistake. _Voldemort_ had set this up? 

"Is this your idea of a proposal?" She tried to keep her arrogant tone, but her heart was beating so fast it threatened to fly right out of her chest. 

Blaise cursed and scrubbed his face. When he dug something out of his pocket Hermione's hummingbird heart stopped dead in its tracks. 

"This isn't how I wanted to do this," he said, a nervous smile creeping to his lips as he sank to one knee before her. "But now is as good a time as any. Valouris, my love, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?" 

Hermione made a sound in the back of her throat when he opened the ring box. The intricately designed diamond was bigger than her knuckle, the Zabini crest wrapped around it. Remembering that she was supposed to be happy about this, Hermione contorted her features into a smile and cupped her mouth as she had seen hundreds of simpering women do on the telly.

"Of course!" She was proud that she was able to choke out the words without throwing up. Blaise grinned like a fool and took the ring out of the box and placed it on the third finger of her left hand where it tightened to fit her. The weight on her finger was nothing compared to the one on her heart.

When he continued to sit there she realized he was waiting for her to react. Completely ignorant of these situations, Hermione leaned forward and laid a chaste kiss on his lips. As she tried to move back he gripped the back of her head. 

"Is that all I get from my fiancée, then?" His knowing smile told her he was expecting much more. Her stomach twisted. No, no this wasn't supposed to happen yet! Not until Sunday! She was still a virgin! 

He took her lips and ravished them; it was the only word she could think of to describe it. He had her pinned back in the chair in seconds and was grabbing at every part of her he could find. Hermione tried not to squeal or shy away, but it was a hard-won victory. His tongue was everywhere, covering her with spit. Her eyes welled with tears, her instincts to fight consuming her. 

"Blaise, not here," she implored, her voice quivering. She swallowed down the fear and disgust as his teeth found her jaw. "Anyone could walk in." 

"Since when have you cared about that?" he chortled softly against her throat, his left hand squeezing her breast painfully. "Modesty has never been one of your greatest virtues, my dear." 

"Alright, so maybe I just want to wait for a little privacy. Is there anything wrong with me wanting more than just a romp on a chair to celebrate our engagement?" Hermione nudged him back with carefully restrained hysteria. She let calm inquisitiveness take over her face and he smiled. 

"You're right; I'm being a complete lout. But I can't help myself around you," he plucked at her lips again. "You are absolutely intoxicating." 

"I know how you feel," she replied sensually, inwardly gagging. "But we should wait for tomorrow night when we can celebrate properly." 

She could see when he remembered he was supposed to be questioning her instead of mauling her, but she headed him off. "I'm going to go show the girls the ring, they're just going to die!" 

Not so nicely shoving him off of her, Hermione made a mad dash for the door and skid out into the hall while he swore behind her. She tore through the dungeons and screeched when a hand appeared out of nowhere and pulled her into a classroom. Malfoy pulled off Harry's Invisibility Cloak and before he could so much as assure her who he was, she was in his arms clinging to him, shaking. Her heart was caught in her throat and the hot tears which had been waiting impatiently on the sidelines began to fall in earnest. 

"Hermione what's wrong, what happened? Are you hurt?" he pulled her back to look at her, shock and concern written all over his face. 

"No, no I'm fine, I'm just-" she sniffed and tried to regain some sense of composure but all she could do was conjure the image of Blaise grabbing at her, knowing that he was about to do much, _much_ more soon and she was going to have to let him. The tears redoubled and she let out another sob. "I can't do this! I can't go through with it!" 

"Hermione calm down," he urged, pushing her down onto a desk. "What happened?" 

"He did it, he proposed," she choked, flashing the ring at Malfoy. He grabbed her hand and stared at it in disbelief. "But not before he tried to drug me so he could interrogate me." 

_"What?"_

She told him the story word for word as he paced, a look of deep concentration on his angelic features. His lithe body was tense, ready to pounce at any provocation. 

"-and then he was on top of me, _mauling_ me, and I just froze up! I'm not going to be able to do this, I don't know what I'm doing, I'm going to ruin everything-" 

"Stop, you're not going to ruin anything," Malfoy soothed, taking her shoulders and forcing her to look up at him. "This is going to work, we can do this. We just have to delay him, keep you out of sight until Sunday night. But you're going to have to be with Pansy, someone who can verify your whereabouts so he doesn't become more suspicious. We'll keep our meeting for tonight; we'll figure everything out then. Until then you need to straighten yourself up. Did you bring any makeup with you?" 

"What?" she asked incredulously. "Did you not just hear me? I barely escaped with my virginity; I didn't exactly have time to go back for mascara!" 

"Then just do the best you can, there's a mirror over there," he said, pointing to the back wall. He handed her a handkerchief and she grabbed it from him, fuming. He was more worried about what she looked like than the fact that they were almost just found out! If this was the way he was going to act, she would damn well ask someone else to do the dirty deed and erase their memory afterward! 

When he finally shoved her out of the room after she had cleaned up the damage her tears had wreaked on her carefully applied face, she realized what he had done. He'd purposely made her angry, effectively erasing her fear. She sighed, knowing he had done the right thing. Now was no time to fall apart. 

She searched the building for her new gang, wondering where they usually spent their Saturdays. She didn't have to look far; the three of them were sitting in the courtyard; Pansy and Daphne batting their eyes at a couple of sixth years who were blushing and Millicent was cursing an unlucky beetle who had happened to cross her path. As soon as Hermione came into view, the young men and the poor beetle were thrown from their minds as they rushed to congregate around her. 

"Did you get it?" 

"Oh, let me see!" 

"I can't believe you're engaged!" 

"How did he do it?" 

"Was it romantic?" 

"Let us see the ring!" 

"Okay, alright, calm down!" Hermione couldn't help but smile at their obvious excitement. She shoved her left hand between them and a simultaneous screech filled the courtyard and Hermione flinched at the ear-splitting pitch. 

"Oh, it's _gorgeous!"_

"It's huge!" 

"Look at that rock!" 

"Is it a diamond?" 

"Is it an heirloom?" 

"Of course it's new!" 

"Tell us everything!" 

Hermione dragged them out of the doorway to a couple of benches and told them a somewhat more romantic and less-poisoned version of the debacle ending in the most perfect kiss ever shared between two people. She had them sighing, tears welling, or in Pansy's case, filling a handkerchief. Then the plans began and Hermione allowed them full reign as they began on wild imaginings for the ideal wedding. 

They whiled the hours just this way, moving to the Great Hall when lunch came about and then back to the common room after, the excited chatter never ceasing. Blaise swooped down for one lone kiss at lunch, which sent the girls into a dither and onto yet another discussion of their perfect match, but he otherwise left her alone, of which Hermione was eternally thankful. She didn't know how much more her nerves could take at this point. 

Finally, after a dinner she could hardly stomach as she felt Malfoy's eyes on her the entire time, she was able to beg off from the weddings plans, which had now been worn down to their dinner options, saying that she needed to finish an essay for McGonagall. She ran for her dorm and shut herself up in her bed and tried, honestly, to finish the essay. But her hands shook and her dinner churned and she felt she might be sick. Every time she gazed at the clock she swore it was playing tricks on her. There was no way it could be 7:30 already! Hadn't she just finished dinner? 

But now it was 7:53. How had that happened? 

8:14. This wasn't possible… 

8:28. Where was the time going? 

8:36. There was still time. She could back out… 

8:47. _I can't do this..._

At five minutes 'til, Hermione neatly rolled up the barely touched parchment, her hands quaking so hard she dropped it several times. Taking deep breaths, she forced herself to stop by Blaise and drop a kiss on his cheek before heading out. He caught her wrist as she turned away and pressed his soft lips against it. 

"When can I expect you back?" his eyes were dark and questioning. 

"Late. We're working with the Draught of Living Death tonight and I've been having problems with it," she lied smoothly. 

"It's funny; you've never had trouble with potions before, why the sudden change?" 

Hermione swallowed. "I've had a lot on my mind, is all." 

He nodded, still not fully satisfied. "I'll wait up for you." 

"That isn't necessary," she said too quickly. "You don't have to wait up for me." 

"Regardless, I will." 

"Really, it'll be very late and we have a big day tomorrow-" 

"I'll see you when you get back." 

Hermione could see there was no changing his mind so she forced a smile and hurried out, late yet again. She raced through the castle and stopped outside the door which had already been conjured, meaning Malfoy was waiting inside, to collect herself. She smacked herself in the forehead when she realized she hadn't even looked in the mirror since this morning when she'd had to fix her makeup. She must look a wreck! Doing the best she could in the time she had, she straightened her Slytherin uniform and smoothed down her hair. 

It was now or never. 

_Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. You can do this. This means nothing._

She opened the door and Malfoy looked up from a chocolate brown settee nestled in front of a crackling fire. It was ridiculous that they needed a fire in June, but the frost from the Dementors would not wear off, no matter the season. Hermione realized she was indeed shivering, although she doubted highly that it had anything to do with the temperature around her and everything to do with the hungry gaze in Malfoy's eyes. That molten grey could burn through steel. 

He set down the drink he had in his hand and stood, his eyes never leaving hers. Hermione couldn't breathe, she couldn't think. When he started to walk towards her slowly, measuring, her heart thudded with every step. She must look like a terrified rabbit being hunted down by the big, bad wolf but she couldn't do anything except stand there until he was practically on top of her. Her heart stopped then, just quit moving in her chest, as he reached out one hand to gently brush the hair from her face, his fingertips barely gliding over her skin. 

Her heart went into palpitations at the simple gesture and she could see the fire in his eyes, knew what was about to happen. But he surprised her when, instead of leaning in for a kiss, he grabbed her hand gently. 

"Come sit with me," he purred and she allowed herself to be pulled to the overstuffed couch, sitting stiffly as Malfoy poured her a goblet of deep red wine. He handed it to her, steadying the chalet when her hands shook hard enough to spill the beverage.

"This will help," he smiled kindly and she nodded jerkily, taking a large gulp and wincing at the sting, forcing it back past the ball lodged in her throat. He grabbed his own goblet and settled next to her, close enough to touch but purposefully refraining from doing so.

"Did you have any more run-ins with Blaise?" he asked quietly, sipping elegantly from his goblet making her wince at her uncouth performance thus far. She knew he was purposefully steering their conversation away from what was about to take place and she was grateful, jumping at his distraction.

"No, I kept myself busy with wedding plans and he seemed pleased with that and wisely kept his distance," she said with a hesitant smile, taking a smaller sip of the wine and finding that it was much more pleasant in lesser quantities. "Honestly, I was jealous."

Malfoy barked out a laugh, grinning. "Yes, that lot can be quite a handful, I can only imagine their, ah, _enthusiasm,_ in planning the wedding of the year. I saw them twittering during dinner, it looked exhausting."

"Thoroughly," Hermione agreed. "Though I suppose it's rather nice in a way. I've never had many female friends. It's…interesting to say the least."

"Yes, it's hard to imagine Potter and Weasley debating between periwinkle and cornflower blue for bridesmaids robes," Malfoy smirked. Hermione lifted her brows at him.

"Impressive color spectrum vocabulary you have," she teased and he winked.

"Only the well-honed gentlemen understand the intricacies of such things."

Hermione laughed. "Well, you go on right ahead and plan my wedding then, because I haven't the faintest idea what the difference between those two would be."

She took another sip of wine as Malfoy surveyed her and she shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny. "What?"

He shook his head, his arm leaning against the back of the couch to allow his fingers to play with her hair. "I admire that about you."

She crinkled her brow. "What, my lack of hue distinction?"

He was quiet for a moment as he found his words. "You're so different from every other girl I've ever met. You don't worry about inane things such as fashion or makeup, you'd rather spend your time expanding your mind. You're not afraid to be 'one of the boys,' yet you don't allow yourself to get distracted by petty pastimes like they do. You find wealth in knowledge, in compassion. You're the most selfless person I know, you would do anything for another person and you never expect anything in return. Enough is never good enough, you strive for perfection, even if that means staying up until three o'clock in the bloody morning adding two extra feet onto an assignment that didn't need it while your friends play Gobstones."

Hermione snorted, gulping her wine nervously. "So, what you're saying is that I'm boring."

His brow furrowed. "Granger, I don't think you could ever be boring. Bossy, pretentious, stubborn, but never boring. You are so engaging I often find myself lost in your words. You have a passion I've never seen and it's addicting. It's infuriating, especially since you seem to have no concept of exactly how beguiling you are."

Wholly discomfited, Hermione shifted and looked down at her now empty goblet. Malfoy reached forward and gently removed it from her grasp, setting both on the table before them, sliding closer to her. The hand which had been playing with her hair came around to drag his fingertips across her cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of her lip making her heart stutter.

"May I kiss you?" he drawled, his voice so low and husky it made goosebumps erupt across her arms. Numbly, she nodded and his lips descended upon her slowly, his hand cupping her jaw and angling her just so, his breath caressing her skin an endless moment before his lips touched hers, slowly, softly, tugging at her heartstrings and making her whimper when he deepened it infinitesimally. Her head automatically fell to the side to give him more room to plunder and he moved slowly against her, methodically, soothing, easing her…

Suddenly, the reality of his uncharacteristically romantic gesture crashed upon her and she shot to her feet, mortified that she'd fallen for it, that she'd actually thought for just one moment that he was saying these things because they were what he felt, not as a ruse to ease her into pliancy for what was to come. He looked up at her, confused, and she backed away, terrified. She couldn't do this, she couldn't pretend, she couldn't give herself to someone who didn't truly want her.

"I'm s-sorry," she stammered before whipping around, racing for the exit. She was so flustered she couldn't open the door and nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt his hands on her shoulders, stilling her movements. He said nothing but leaned in, wrapping his long arms around her waist, pulling her body flush with his. They simply stood there for a moment, her heart thudding uncomfortably loud against her rib cage.

"You're not used to compliments," he murmured softly, his breath whispering against her ear. "And certainly not from me. I have said many cruel things to you Hermione, but I am not that boy anymore. I hope you can forgive my ignorance. Working with you these last few months have been intoxicating and I find myself drawn to you, possibly more than is wise."

His lips nudged aside her hair and caught her neck. She knew he could feel her trembling and as mortified as she was, knew there was nothing she could do to stop it. Her eyes closed on a mewl when his hands began to move, just feeling her. She could feel his manhood hardening against her lower back, but he paid it no mind. He just continued to touch her, those big hands covering her tiny waist, but never where she began to ache. He'd stopped kissing her and was just nuzzling, their cheeks stroking one another.

"I want you," he breathed, the words shooting straight to her core and she shuddered. 

It was the most erotic moment of her life. Every nerve ending was on fire. She could feel everything; her clothes against her skin, the warmth of his body, the soft skin of his cheek against hers. She could hear the rustle of her clothing as he moved it aside to touch her stomach, the crunch of her hair against her ear, her stuttered pants filling the air. She could smell his cologne, that masculine scent that drove her crazy at night, his hair, his breath. He filled her, every lonely, empty inch of her, and she suddenly realized that she'd never wanted anything more in this world than what he was offering right now.

"May I make love to you, Hermione Granger?" 

She melted. With a courage she'd never known she had, Hermione turned and looked up at him, their bodies never leaving each other. She reached up and cupped his cheek, warm from lying against hers. He waited patiently, his breath puffing softly between his slightly parted lips, as she gathered herself and leaned up to kiss him. 

It was a kiss carved out of a fairy tale. His lips, smooth, supple, caressed hers as if she were his last drink of water. Her heart swelled as the kiss deepened, moving her to places she'd never been. His hands were in her hair, holding her there as if he were afraid she'd move away. She tried to tell him with her kiss that this was what she wanted, what she'd always wanted and never known. 

Just as she thought she could happily stand there and kiss him forever, he swept her up as if she weighed nothing and walked with her. When he laid her down almost reverently on something too soft to dream of, she opened her eyes and saw what had started out as a cozy study room had transformed into a lush bedroom, dim and sensual. The deep red hangings and roaring fire created a lighting meant for lovers. She smiled up at Draco who grinned back, that signature smirk that told her he knew what he had done and had done so very purposely. 

But that grin sobered as he continued to look at her lying on the bed in wait. She wanted to squirm under his gaze but dared not move a muscle. 

"I've waited for this," he whispered, the words stealing over her, capturing her heart. He said nothing more but crawled over her, covering her body with his and taking her lips once more. He pressed her against the mattress, devouring her, instantly setting her body on fire. She needed to be touched, to be filled. He went about undressing her, taking his time, never hurrying. Whereas she was ready to pounce him and take him for her own, he drew out every moment, nothing wasted.

The cashmere swept over her head and onto the floor, his own sweater joining it. Hermione raised herself up suddenly, pushing them both into sitting positions. He looked at her questioningly, but she ignored his inquiry and began to unbutton his shirt. She could hear the slick sound of each button escaping through the hole, revealing more and more of the man before her. He was Adonis, he was perfect. All smooth porcelain over steel. She pushed his shirt down his arms letting it puddle around him and splayed her hands over his hard chest. Her blood grew hot just looking at him, his well-defined abs taunting her with their beauty. She had never seen anything so perfect. When her eyes travelled up to his immaculate face she could see the effect her perusal had on him. His just-been-kissed lips were slightly parted and color rose high on his cheekbones. Their eyes held for an infinite moment in which she saw deeper into his soul than anyone ever would. She knew she wasn't the first girl he'd bedded, but she also knew with that same certainty that she was the only one who had earned that look from him. 

His hands came forth to cup her face and he brought their lips together once more, pouring his heart and soul into her with every thrust of his tongue. She clung to his hair, pulling him closer, holding him tighter as his hands began their destruction of her body. Before she could think, her shirt was off, then her bra. He pushed her back onto the bed and covered her once more, never leaving her for a second. He was able to remove her skirt with one hand, taking her panties with it. She helped him by kicking the whole mess off with her shoes and by that time he was fully naked himself. How had that happened?

He didn't give her time to ask but revered her body with his eyes, hands and hot mouth. He was everywhere at once, touching, stroking, loving. She gasped when he pulled her nipple into his mouth and she shivered as his fingers skimmed over her, barely touching, but enough to drive her wild. Wanting to give back, she began her own pursuit of his body, enjoying his masculinity.

When he took her mouth again his fingers trailed lower and she remembered the way he had made her feel in that empty classroom and she wanted it again. Pressing her hips into his hand he groaned and cupped her womanhood. One deft finger separated her, teasing her slit, flicking gently over her sensitive nub. Hermione began to writhe, the sensations too much to bear. Her own hand slid down his body to touch him for the first time. She'd been too embarrassed to look before and now she gasped in pure feminine pleasure. He was much bigger than she had ever imagined and softer and harder than anything she'd ever felt. It was like silk wrapped around steel, she'd never felt anything like it.

And she wanted it.

When his finger slid into her their lips broke apart as they moaned. Unknowingly, she gripped him and he bit her shoulder in response. Locking eyes with him she knew she was doing something he enjoyed so she did it again, sliding her hand up and down his shaft in an instinctive motion. He growled as his member twitched and another finger entered her. Their hands moved in sync, the heat from their bodies filling the room. Hermione couldn't look away from him, he held her in his spell, locked in a moment of intense pleasure.

"I can't wait any longer," he pled her desperately. Understanding his need, she nodded and he settled between her legs, grabbing her close and kissing her once more. She could feel him against her core, all that strength enclosed inside one man, taut with need for her. She was floored by the emotions that swept through her as he raised himself just enough to look into her eyes.

"It will hurt," he murmured solemnly.

"I know."

"But I'll be right here through it," he promised, stroking her face, kissing her tenderly.

And in that moment, as he leaned back just enough to angle himself in, Hermione knew without a doubt that they were inexplicably twined. 

As he began to push in he caught her gaze and held it, never leaving as he filled her, stretching her to allow him entry. _This isn't so bad,_ she thought as he slowly sheathed himself. In fact, it was wonderful. He worked leisurely into her passage before withdrawing, working a little further each time, her breath catching as the feeling of fullness overtook her. He surely couldn't go any deeper, he'd never fit…

Then he pulled back and thrust in harshly, ripping her through.

She cried out and clung to him, his arms wrapping about her as the sharp pain subsided. Draco planted kisses along her neck and shoulder, murmuring soft apologies, his fingers massaging her lower back, relaxing her tense muscles. It was gone as soon as it came, and when he began to move she wondered if she had just imagined the whole thing.

Her legs lifted of their own accord and came about him, pulling him closer, deeper, taking him into her where no one would ever touch her again. She opened herself to him, giving herself freely and he cherished it, giving back everything she hadn't know she'd wanted. He drove into her over and over, changing the angle to show her new heights, to show her pleasure unlike anything anyone had ever felt. He laced their fingers together and pulled them above her head so that every part of them touched, his sweaty forehead against hers, his eyes locking with her own. He stilled for a moment, gazing down at her, panting slightly. He looked as if he wanted to say something but instead leaned forward and kissed her sweetly.

Then he raised his hips and pressed his face into her neck and took her, just took her, pushing her into the mattress, riding her hard and fast until she was keening, her body tight, filled to the breaking point, everything building up inside her as he stroked her just right.

"Draco!" she cried, begging for more, needing it. He gave it to her, endlessly, tirelessly until she shattered, her world bursting into pieces, tumbling around her as that bliss crept into every millimeter of her body. She was driven there again as he cried out, his face twisting into pleasure so intense it looked painful. He collapsed on top of her, every muscle spent. 

They lay there for what felt like an eternity, their breathing returning to normal, Hermione's entire body tingling in satisfaction. When he had the strength, Draco rose onto one elbow and took her hand into his, kissing her, a long, lingering mating of mouths. He rolled onto his back, bringing her with him to tuck her under his arm. He pulled her close and she nuzzled in, realizing this was the first time she'd ever cuddled with a man before. 

He played with her hair absently as they listened to the silence. Hermione had thought the ordeal would be awkward and painful, both physically and emotionally. But she had been wrong. She'd just had the single most life altering experience of her life. Nothing had ever felt more right in her young existence. For once she knew, really knew, that this was where she was supposed to be. Everything had led up to this and she would do it all again in a heartbeat. It was then she realized. 

She was falling for Draco Malfoy.

Her heart clenched and swelled all at the same time. How had this happened? Then again, how had it not? He was the only person in the world who truly knew and understood her, more-so even than the boys. He'd stood by her all these months and was even now giving everything for her. He was smart, handsome, witty. He'd grown up so much since that fateful night on the tower, was doing everything he could to make up for his mistakes. It was admirable how a selfish little boy had grown into a selfless, strong-willed man.

Though she smiled at the possibility, she knew it would never be. He would never see her as more than a friend, a Mudblood one at that. Obviously he cared for her, that much had been evident tonight. He might even care for her as more than a friend. But nothing could ever come of it. When they went back to their world and if they somehow survived the coming months, he would go back to his life and she to hers. She would take her place in the working Wizarding world and he would take his place as a Pureblood magnate. He would forget all about her when the Pureblood girls were fawning over him from all across the globe. He would have his pick from thousands. And she, well, she was resigned to marry Ron. He loved her, in his own way. They could be happy. He would give her children (probably more than she wanted) and would allow her to pursue a career of her own. What more could she ask for? It was the way the world was, and she wouldn't have it all that bad. It could be worse… 

Draco's finger lifted her chin, effectively breaking her away from her thoughts and thrusting her into the present. She chided herself. She should be enjoying this while she had it, not moping about the future. Tonight, she had everything she'd ever wanted. Tonight was what dreams were made of. And she would take what she had and be grateful. 

"What are you thinking about?" he asked, his baritone flowing through her like silk.

Smiling, she shook her head. "Nothing."

"Liar," he smirked, but he let it go, his face growing concerned. "Are you alright?"

"I'm wonderful," she answered, wishing she could tell him everything she was feeling. "Thank you, for everything." 

He grinned cheekily. "Anytime." 

She smacked his chest playfully and he snickered, laying back. She sat up slightly and noticed for the first time an uncomfortable wetness has seeped between her thighs. She glanced discreetly down to see a mess of blood and semen. She knew she was blushing, but what could she do? If she stood, it would all drip out and get everywhere, and she couldn't possibly use the blankets…

Draco chuckled at her obvious distress. "Wait here."

He eased from the bed and grabbed a towel from a nearby table and chucked it to her, using one for himself. Keeping her legs crossed, Hermione looked at him uncertainly and he laughed again.

"There's no need to be embarrassed, my prude princess. I've seen it all."

"You don't have to be crude," she sulked, turning away from him as much as possible so she could clean in some modicum of privacy.

She jumped when he spoke into her ear. "Does it bother you that I've been with other women?" 

"Of course not!" she lied, and that stupid ferret knew it. "You may sleep with whomever you like; it's none of my business!" 

"Jealous, my pet?" he murmured, his hand snaking down her thigh and back up where she had just cleaned herself. She slapped at him but he pounced her, pressing her back into the bed. "You are!"

"I most certainly am not!"

He laughed cockily and eased between her thighs, filling her again so that she gasped and pressed up into him, wanting more. He nibbled her earlobe as he started to move easily, her insatiable need and his earlier emission easing his passage.

"Don't worry, I'll know the feeling soon enough."

Hermione wanted to question him but he pulled up her legs to her chest and showed her just how deep he could go. She moaned and grabbed at him, wanting more. 

"Tell me what you want," he panted. "Tell me how you need me."

"Harder," she moaned, not believing what she was saying. "Please, Draco, harder!"

He groaned like a dying man and pounded her into the mattress as she screamed, her climax exploding over her, taking him with her, his hips driving like a piston as he cried out her name. When he collapsed onto her this time she allowed the black to steal over and settled into bliss.

.

.

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AuraAuthor: LOL! Your comments never cease to amuse me!

CatwinWo: Well, I wonder what you think about THIS sex? :P

Perditrix: Thank you so much for your comment, I'm so happy to have you along for the ride! Hope this chapter was to your liking!

LissaDream: Intense indeed, just wait – there is much more to be revealed!

BoredRavenclaw620: Alllllll the scheming! And feel free to PM me, I'd love to hear your theories!

everlastingtrueromance: Oh, the woes these two find themselves in! Well, at least she got to do more than snog Draco in this chapter ;) Hope you likes!

XOXO

RynStar15


	7. Obculto

Draco watched her sleep for longer than he cared to admit. He couldn't describe the turmoil and, conversely, the utter contentment flowing through him right now. He'd never felt such warring emotions simultaneously and it was terrifying.

What had he done? What was he _thinking?_ The last hours had been perfect, nothing short. He'd never made love to a woman before, had never even known what it meant to. Sex, that was one thing. And there was nothing wrong with a good sweaty bout of hot, primal sex. But this, this emotional connection, this deep rending of soul, was far more than he had ever asked for.

He hadn't meant for this to happen. He had known she would be nervous and he'd planned to wound her pride just enough earlier for her to want to show him up. Then, he'd be able to loosen her with wine to make the first time less painful and make her more willing to learn a few tricks Blaise might have up his sleeve. But when she'd walked in, that look on her face, that one that told him she wanted him but didn't know how…oh, he had fallen then and fallen hard. Kissing her had been intoxicating and soon he had completely forgotten why they were there in the first place. It was just Draco and Hermione, as he'd dreamt about a hundred times. It was a moment he would replay in his head the rest of his life. Tonight could easily carry him through anything to come. But, like all Malfoys, it wasn't enough.

He wanted more.

There was no way he could just hand her off to Blaise or that Weasley prick. No, she was his now. No one had ever touched him before like she had. He had never thought he could feel like this, love like this. Since when had he become such a sodding sentimentalist?

When she stirred, he ran his hand down her immeasurably smooth skin. She was so soft, so delicate, and yet he knew how strong she could be. When she smiled up at him with all that trust and love, his heart stuttered. How could he ever deserve someone like her?

She nuzzled in and he grabbed her up, their naked bodies melding together as if they were old friends. And good Merlin he couldn't wait for them to meet again. Who knew a virgin could be such a good lay? He'd never climaxed so hard in his entire life, he'd literally seen stars and –

When she stiffened in his arms his entire body instantly went on high alert.

"Draco, what time is it?" she snapped, her face wan. She bolted up and began looking around for her clothes. _"What time is it?!"_

"There's a clock right there, it's just after one," he replied, dumbstruck. "What's wrong?"

" _One?_ Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh _gods,_ he's going to kill me-!"

 _"Who?"_

She began throwing her clothes on haphazardly and Draco watched her in confusion.

 _"Blaise!"_ she cried hysterically, buttoning her shirt up wrong and tucking it into her skirt. "He said he'd wait up and he already knows I'm up to something! I shouldn't have fallen asleep! Oh, gods, this could ruin _everything!_ "

Shit.

"Hermione, slow down-"

"Don't you understand? He's in with someone! A Death Eater! It could be his father, or _my_ father, who's really _your_ father-"

"He's in with someone?" Draco's heart dropped. What in the love of Merlin had they gotten themselves into?

" _Yes!_ Weren't you listening earlier? We don't exactly have stocks of Veritaserum sitting around where students can get to it and he most certainly did _not_ make it on his own, he didn't even get into N.E.W.T potions! Which means someone must have gotten it to him and who else would want to know what I've been up to? It seems _Valouris_ was up to something even before we came and now _I_ have to deal with it!"

Finally dressed, if not perfectly, Hermione ran for the door.

"Hermione, wait-"

She turned at the door and gave him a wistful look. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for it to end like this. Thank you, for everything. Again. Really, I – I…I don't know what to say. But I have to go, I'm sorry."

"Hermione-!"

But she was already gone. Draco had a bad feeling and when he did, it was usually for a good reason. Dressing hastily and grabbing his Invisibility Cloak, he donned it and raced out the door, hoping to catch which way Hermione had gone. He knew a dozen shortcuts she probably didn't so he could easily head her off, but he worried she might not make it there, Blaise might be lying in wait in a secluded alcove. He tried to think like her and chose the shortest way without the passages only Slytherin's knew about and took off down the staircase behind a portrait of a very fat elf trying to seduce a nymph.

By the time he'd made it down to the entrance, she was already whispering the password to the Slytherin common room. Cursing silently, Draco rushed forward and slipped in behind her, keeping to the wall.

They saw him at the same time. The single fireplace was down to embers, the rest of the room dark and silent. He sat in a chair just beyond the glow of the light. Draco had only seen his Blaise this mad a handful of times and nothing good had come of it. He watched Hermione straighten her shoulders as Blaise stood, his wand hand twitching as he drew near her.

"You really didn't have to wait up," Hermione said in a weak voice, looking up at him as he stopped just before her, his face a mask of tightly constrained fury. "It was very sweet-"

"It's odd, you know," he said, his voice carefully controlled, checking his immaculate nails for non-existent dirt.

"W-what's odd?" Hermione stuttered, daring a smile.

"I suppose it's somewhat difficult to have Potions lessons when the professor is absent. Wouldn't you agree?"

"W-what?"

"And wouldn't you agree as well, that four hours on a school night is asking a bit much from a student who's fallen behind?"

"I told you I would be late-"

 _"And wouldn't you agree,"_ he snapped, intersecting her excuse. "That when returning back to your _fiancé_ after a mysterious rendezvous it would be of utmost concern that you at least remember to redress. Yourself. Properly?" His hand had shot forward and grabbed her tie, yanking it loose with each punctuated word. Hermione stood stock-still as he re-tied it, tightening it until she was gasping. Draco snuck forward slowly, his wand suddenly in his hand. Blaise tugged on the tie until she was on her tiptoes, her face nearly pressed to his.

"I would be careful, my _dear,_ who you chose to anger. That ring on your finger does not give you permission to play with others. Do you understand?"

"Blaise-"

 _"Do you understand?"_ he thundered, shaking her as she gagged.

"Yes!" she sputtered, her hands digging at his fingers but he refused to let her go.

"Don't you realize what you're doing?!" Blaise screamed frantically. Draco had never seen him so close to the breaking point as he shook Hermione like a rag doll until Draco could barely restrain himself from cursing him into the Dark Ages. "You could ruin _everything!_ If you show up with a fucking bastard in your belly do you know what they will do to you? Do to _me?_ For once in your life stop being the spoiled little brat you are and _think!_ You cannot screw this up, not again! There is too much at stake! We know you haven't been taking your potions lately, we know you're up to something! What are you playing at?! TELL ME!"

Blaise threw her to the floor where she lay gasping, her blue lips regaining color. When she turned up to Blaise he had his wand trained on her. "Tell me what you're up to or I swear on the Dark Lord's life I will murder you right here and now just to save him the trouble."

"Blaise, it's not what you think, I swear!" she squeaked in a terrified voice. Draco knew she could take him in a duel, but Blaise had the upper-hand as her wand was still tucked in her robes pocket.

"Then tell me what _it_ is or I swear to Merlin-"

"Just hear me out, alright? Just listen for a minute!" she pled, hands up, trying to regain control of the situation. "I don't know who you're getting your information from, but they don't know the full story and neither do you!"

"Then you had better spit it out Valouris, because we are through playing games." Draco could see the murder in his eyes and knew that look had only led to the demise of the people he aimed it upon. Was Blaise a murderer in this world as well?

"I've been given another mission," she lied smoothly, gaining her feet, her hands still in front of her where he could see. His brow raised disbelievingly.

"Why didn't I hear about it?"

"Because only mother and I know about it."

"Lucius doesn't know?" he asked skeptically. Draco wanted to scream at her, to stop her. In their world, at least, his mother was not nearly high enough in ranks to be given a direct order for a mission. With only a daughter to her name, she had to be even lower in the hierarchy and therefore scum beneath the Dark Lord's shoe.

"No, he only told mother and me."

Draco saw the disbelief in Blaise's eyes and knew her story wouldn't hold. But he nodded anyway, allowing her to continue.

"Go on."

"I-I was told to get information."

"What kind of information?"

Draco pled she remembered some of the tricks he and Moody had taught her about concealing her lies, because the honest and innocent Hermione Granger was a downright terrible liar. His pleas remained unanswered, however, and it seemed nothing had stuck through all those months.

"About the Order. I can't explain all the details-"

"You had better explain enough," he threatened.

"Blaise, please, put down your wand-"

"I SAID EXPLAIN!"

Hermione flinched and gulped. "Er, well I was told to try and g-get close with Potter. But he h-hates me so much that er, we thought it would be best if I…picked off the weakling."

 _"Meaning?"_

He could tell Blaise wasn't swallowing the story, his ire rising, and Draco watched the scene progress as fear curled in his belly.

"Well, Granger has always been the most understanding, so mother suggested that I use _him_ to get to Harry by er, whatever means necessary..."

Well, Draco had to hand it to her, she had kept at least _one_ lying method in mind: sticking as close to the truth as possible.

Though this truth was probably better omitted as Blaise puffed up like a hippogriff and Hermione took a step backward.

"You're _fucking_ the _Mudblood?_ "

"No, Blaise, it's not like that!"

"So you're saying you _didn't_ fuck him?" Blaise spat, advancing on her.

"Well, yes, but it's not what you think-"

The second his fist came into contact with her face, Draco snapped. By the time she crashed into a nearby coffee table, which toppled on impact, Draco had already Stupified Blaise who dropped where he stood. He ran forward, throwing off the Invisibility Cloak, and skid to Hermione's side.

"Are you alright? Shit, I _knew_ this was going to happen! I'm sorry I didn't-" Draco was cut off as she propelled into his arms, knocking him back. She didn't weep and fall apart like he would have figured, just trembled and clung to him. He held her, his eyes on Blaise's still figure. As the shaking slowed she leaned back to look at him and he sucked in a breath. Her nose was bleeding, the left side of her face a bright, angry red. The power with which Blaise had hit her would have felled that oaf Hagrid, let alone this tiny witch before him. She flinched when he put his hand up to push the blood-soaked hair out of her swelling eye.

"How bad?" he asked lowly.

She shook her head and quickly stilled. It obviously hurt quite a lot. "I've had worse, trust me," she answered thickly, making him conclude that she had bit her tongue on impact. With a curse, Draco scooped her up gently, settling her on the couch. She shifted stiffly and he knew she would be sore for days.

"We can't leave him like this, someone might see. I'm surprised no one heard," Hermione muttered softly, her eyes on Blaise's still form, her wrist stanching her broken nose.

"The common room has a Silencing Spell on it, the Slytherins are a very private lot."

"I see. How did you get here?"

"I followed you. I knew something was wrong by the way you rushed out. I know Blaise's temper firsthand. It wouldn't be the first time he's hit a girl. Probably not the first time he's hit Valouris," Draco explained. She understood his implied meaning, that in the Pureblood world she would be used to being knocked around by men.

"What are we going to do? How am I going to explain this?" she asked as Draco Conjured a handkerchief to stem the flow of blood from her nose.

"Well, the first thing we're going to do is get you cleaned up," he murmured, taking in her injuries with a sinking feeling. "Then we'll tidy the room, you'll use your crafty wand work to erase his memory, and you'll tell him that you came in at 10:30 but he was already asleep and you just came down to make sure he was abed."

Hermione looked up at him, her face covered in blood and smeared mascara, the left side swelling profusely, but her eyes were filled with admiration. _For him_.

"Well, I can see I have the right man by my side in a sticky situation, don't I?" she said thickly, her smile genuine even if it did look painful.

"Who better than a Malfoy?" he smirked.

"Granger," she corrected him.

He let out a hollow laugh began to fix her up as best he could, his healing spells primitive at best. He siphoned the blood from her face and clothes and set her nose. She walked him through a spell to lessen the swelling and bruising and when there was no more he could do she fixed her hair to cover her face.

While she ran upstairs to change into pajamas, Draco righted the table and Levitated Blaise into his favorite armchair where he had been settled when they'd walked in. Positioning him as he'd fallen asleep numerous times before, Draco found the wand he'd dropped and tucked it into the inside pocket of Blaise's robes and had to stop himself from giving the bastard a taste of his own medicine. What manner of man could hit a woman? _Especially_ a woman like Hermione? True, Blaise had no idea as to her real identity, but it made him sick to think of the way he would treat her behind closed doors. Could Hermione handle a man as volatile as he? Had Draco really harmed her by teaching her the pleasures of sex instead of showing her what she would be up against with someone like Blaise?

When Hermione limped down the staircase Draco stood, his heart stilling. Even with a battered face she looked like a goddess. The eerie glow of the moon-drenched lake filtered through the window lighting her hair and allowing him to see straight through the silky blue fabric of her immodest nightgown. He had to swallow several times and when she stepped up to him he had to touch her just to believe she was real.

"You're beautiful," he murmured. She blushed.

"Only with the help of _Valouris_ ," she scoffed.

"No, Hermione," he said, not believing the words that were leaving his mouth. "You are the most beautiful witch I've ever met."

Embarrassed, she looked away and cleared her throat. "Well, we should get this over with, don't you think? It's getting late…"

He nodded, mentally chiding himself, and pulled on the Cloak. He kept near in case Blaise tried anything again, his wand trained on his ex-best friend. Draco swore he would never allow anyone to touch Hermione again if there was anything he could do to help it. He felt sick as his mind replayed her slamming into that table over and over…

 _"Obliviate!"_ Hermione murmured, her wand steady. Blaise glowed blue momentarily but otherwise remained unmoved. "There, I erased his memory of the entire night an hour after I left, it should be enough."

"Alright, hand me your wand so he doesn't wonder why you have it," Draco said, sticking his arm out from the Cloak to take it. "I'm going to lift the spell now, ready? _Ennervate!_ "

"Blaise? Love?" she crooned softly when he stirred, shaking his shoulder, making sure her hair drooped over the left side of her face. "Wake up."

He sat up and looked around, glancing at the clock. "Wha-what's going on? Did you just get in?"

"No, silly!" she cooed. "Don't you remember? I woke you up when I got back and told you I was headed to bed. I couldn't sleep so I came down to see if you were still here. Surprise, surprise!"

He rubbed his eyes clearly still confused. "Merlin, I must have really conked, eh? When did you get in?"

"Oh, just after 10:30, I suppose. You were already out by then. Have you not been sleeping well?" Hermione played the role of concerned fiancée well.

"No, not recently," he admitted, rubbing his tired eyes.

"Well, term is almost over, soon you won't need to worry about a thing," she replied and when he looked about to say something she cut him off. "Which reminds me that you owe me some quality time tomorrow! So get to bed, I don't want a drowsy groom-to-be."

The way she purred out the words at the end would make any man beg, especially as her lush breasts swelled over her miserable excuse for a night dress. "Kiss me goodnight and go on upstairs."

With a knowing grin, Blaise leaned up and took her lips, letting her know exactly what was on his mind for the next day, his dark fingers digging into her hips, making Draco seethe. When she moved away he groaned like a dying man.

"Not until tomorrow," she smirked, stepping further into the shadows. "Goodnight, my love."

As she disappeared up the girl's staircase Blaise threw himself back and rubbed at his erection, chuckling softly. Then he rose to his feet and headed up his own staircase, Draco's wand following him until he disappeared from sight.

Draco waited with bated breath until Hermione descended once more. She looked around anxiously at the bottom of the staircase, her face dropping. She stared at the door as if she could will him back and Draco crept forward silently. When she gave up on him, she turned to slowly ascend to bed but he leaned into her ear.

"Looking for me?" he whispered.

She jumped and turned, her face lighting, a smile creeping to her lips as he lowered the Cloak. "Perhaps."

"Well, if you weren't, I suppose I'll leave, but not before I've received my token for saving your life," Draco rasped.

"And what sort of token are you looking for?" she teased. "I have no money."

"I'm richer than you could imagine, I have no need for something so cold."

"So you're wanting something warm, then?" she replied sultrily, dropping back onto the bottom stair.

"Oh, yes," he growled, placing his hands on her hips where Blaise had and feeling her soft body through the thin silk, erasing the other man's touch. "And wet and tight. Something made just for me."

When he nibbled her neck she shivered and his blood turned to lava, racing through his body to join in one place. He reached up to cup her breasts, the nipples peaked, begging for his attention. No body had ever turned him on like hers. It was a body made for desire, he could look at it all day, taste and touch it for longer. No piece of her was any less beautiful than the rest.

Running his hands down her back, he lingered to cup that luxurious backside that drove him wild to think about ramming her from behind. Grasping her thighs, he wrapped her legs around his hips and carried her off the staircase and onto a chair where he sank down, taking her mouth with suddenly aching need.

"I need you now," he ground out, kissing her desperately. "Now, I can't wait."

He felt depraved knowing how sore she would be, but he couldn't restrain himself when she nodded, biting his lip. She had the sense of mind to tug the Invisibility Cloak back over the both of them as he ripped up her gown, groaning when he realized she was bare underneath. He noticed how her hands shook as she undid his pants and he was certain she was worrying about someone walking in. He made it his job to make her forget about anyone else but him.

When his fingers dove into her already slick channel she sucked in a breath and shuddered. He didn't start slow, didn't ease her into it. He took her mouth and body with as much crazed emotion as had been burning inside him for weeks, months. Only she could sate it and he didn't ever think he would get enough. Soon she was clawing at him, her movements jerky as she moaned his name. Crooking his fingers, he held her tight when she bucked harshly, bowing against him as she cried out, her walls choking his fingers on a spasm, soaking his hand as he worked her through her orgasm.

When his hard cock sprang out of its restraints he pulled her above it, rubbing her slick heat, spreading her juices to prepare her. Grasping her smooth hips tightly, he lowered her onto him and she gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders. He growled as she settled onto him, her tight sheath nearly undoing him right then. Draco waited several moments to allow her to stretch around him, his control to the breaking point.

When his sweet Hermione wriggled in frustration, he helped her prop herself to give her the most leverage and led her in the movements until she pulled his hands away, a saucy grin on her face. Clasping his fingers in hers, she thrust his hands to the top of the chair and took over, moving and rotating her hips, trying new angles, new depths. This newfound dominance, the power she knew she held over him, was so unbelievably erotic that he moaned and bucked up into her, needing to take back that control, needing his release. But she continued to drag him on her torturous ride, learning the ways of a man and woman, and he was sucked into her spell, his eyes never moving from hers. He used all the restraint he owned to keep from releasing early, but the way she moved, the feel of her clenching around him, the sight and smell of her surrounding him, was more than he could stand.

Throwing caution to the winds, he wrenched his hands from hers and grabbed her, pulling her off and throwing her over the arm of the nearest settee, her glistening pussy at just the right height for him to ram right in. She cried out, her back bowing in pleasure as he took her like a madman unhinged. As she screamed and clenched around him his world went black, then white, then shattered into an intense array of colors, his world tilting on its axis, throwing him into depths he'd never been.

By the time his orgasm had run its course he was sapped of energy. Draco sank onto the floor, pulling her down with him so that she slumped like a rag doll onto his lap. They clung to each other, spent, drawing comfort to carry them through the coming day. When he closed his eyes all he could see was Zabini's hands around her neck, the bruises on her face. He clasped Hermione tighter, wishing he could save her from all the pain she would endure in the coming weeks, but he knew, as the guilt gnawed at him, that he was the reason she was here in the first place.

How had he ever been happy to know that she would be taking his burden from him? How could he have ever looked at her and seen her as anything other than the amazingly strong, loving, cunning witch that she was? How could he have been so blind?

It wasn't hard to remember the loathing he'd felt for so many years whenever he saw her or Weasley or Potter. _Especially_ Potter. He could remember exactly that burning desire in his second year that Granger would be the Mudblood the Heir of Slytherin killed. They would finally be rid of that insufferable know-it-all who had bested him in every single examination, much to the chagrin of his father. He could remember his elation at the pain he could see in the three of them and Hagrid when he'd gotten that stupid hippogriff sentenced to death. He remembered laughing at her after he'd cursed her teeth to grow at an impossible rate, or when Snape snapped at her for getting a right answer and she hung her head in shame. Or when her over-burdened bag ripped in the hall and she picked her ink-sodden books up all by herself, not one single person stopping to help her. He even recalled kicking her Arithmancy book across the floor and receiving a high-five from a Slytherin seventh year. He'd felt good then. It made him sick now.

But he could also remember the blow to his gut he'd received when he saw her walking into the Yule Ball on Krum's arm. He could remember the shock when she'd punched him after laughing about Hagrid. He remembered the fear he'd felt as he saw her dueling his uncle Rodolphus after he'd let the Death Eaters in last year. He'd watched her fall and had just run past, Snape's grip dragging him down the blood drenched steps.

And now here she was, nuzzling her head into the crook of his neck, a place that seemed to have been made just for her. How could things have changed so drastically, in such a short amount of time? How had they gotten to this?

As if she could read his guilt-ridden mind, she tilted her head up, her sated smile a blow to his chest. She cupped his face and kissed him. "Draco, I... I don't know how to thank you enough. I just want you to know that I don't expect…" she cleared her throat her face falling. "I don't expect this to continue. Your part in this is over. I promise you I'll do everything I can not to blow our cover."

When he'd been about to tell her off she suddenly blanched. "Draco, our cover, the potion, the fertility potion! Draco, we didn't use a condom or anything!"

"What's a condom?" he asked confused. Not only by her words but by the way she was able to switch subjects and moods so rapidly. He could feel her heart hammering against him, that look of horror the same one she'd had when she'd realized she'd overslept.

"A Muggle contraception, one you wizards _obviously_ have never heard of. Oh, what are we going to do? What if you got me pregnant? The chances-"

"Are zero," he smirked, finally understanding what had upset her. "Relax, that wine was laced with a Contraceptive Potion I nicked from Potter's stash. What, you don't think he and Weaslette aren't still going at it like rabbits in this world?"

"Oh, you're disgusting," she said, blushing at the idea of her two friends doing exactly what they had just done three times tonight. She suddenly slumped against him, her head coming to rest on his chest. "You're a saint. Thank Merlin you remembered, I can't imagine _where_ my head has been lately!"

"You're telling me," he replied, his hand smoothing down her thick hair. "I had to add those newt tails all by my lonesome this morning."

Her head snapped up so fast she nearly caught him on the chin. "Oh no, I'm so sorry! I'm being an absolute dolt. It's completely unacceptable! I'll try harder, I swear! Will you forgive me?"

"I suppose," he drawled. "For a price."

"Anything, Draco, really I-"

He swooped down and took her lips, sinking into their enthralling lure. She whimpered and grabbed at his neck, pulling herself tighter to him. He knew they were in trouble. Whatever it was that was brewing between them was strong, too strong. It was dangerous. If they started having feelings now, how would they ever get through this intact?

Before he was steeped so deep in her that he lost his mind, he pulled away, sucking in clarifying breaths.

"You need rest," he urged, cursing the huskiness of his voice. His fingers traced lightly over the bruises on her face. "Can you cover this better tomorrow?" She nodded, swallowing. He could see the effect even this small amount of contact had on her. He _had_ to distance himself, this wasn't safe. They needed to keep their wits about them. He didn't need her growing so fond of him that she fell short of her duties. He'd let her slide the last few days due to the intense amount of stress he knew she was under, but not anymore. She needed to get her head into the game. He did as well. It had been a very risky thing attacking Blaise like he had. He couldn't let his emotions rule him again. This mission required every ounce of skill they had.

"Right. Well, I suppose I'll see you at breakfast."

She nodded and stood awkwardly, straightening her ridiculous nightgown. She grabbed the Invisibility Cloak and handed it to him, her gaze on the floor.

"Goodnight, then," she said, awkward now that the mood changed. He wanted to swoop down and kiss her, bring back the woman he'd had only moments before. Tamping down the impulse, he nodded briskly.

"Night."

He threw on the cloak and watched her retreat to the stairs. Casting a glance around the common room, he made sure everything looked undisturbed and left, not trusting himself to look back at her.

He took his time heading back to Gryffindor Tower. The cold halls did much to dispel the heat of earlier from his thoughts. He passed McGonagall patrolling the second floor, clad in a tartan night robe and slippers but with her wand help tightly in her fist. He wondered vaguely whether the woman ever slept. He removed the Invisibility Cloak as he turned the corner to the Fat Lady, knowing she would panic and set up an alarm if he tried to sneak past her invisible. She eyed him wearily at arriving so late, but said nothing when she noticed his Head Boy badge. The damn thing had its advantages.

The common room was empty and he had every intention of flopping onto his feather mattress and knocking out a good twelve hours of sleep, but upon entering his room he was surprised to see it occupied.

Potter was sitting in his armchair by the fire, every muscle tense, his face hard.

"We need to talk."

.

.

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A/N: I feel I owe some of you a fan after last chapter, lol. Especially since things are about to get much steamier and much darker… FAIR WARNING!

AuraAuthor: Don't break your wrist now, you'll need it for later…

CatwinWo: No fainting! *hands you smelling salts* you're gonna need these… Also, I wanted to point out that I have to purposefully write your name incorrectly because if I put the period in there FFN thinks it's a link and deletes it :/ Just wanted you to know!

LissaDream: You are just the best ego boost ever. This is perhaps my most tender Draco. Definitely a change from Never/Always Mine!

Perditrix: Hot and heavy is the only way to be! ;)

BoredRavenclaw620: Your comment made me giggle, lol. It's funny how well I can convey emotions in stories, I'm shit at them in RL! Your theories will be attended to in a couple of chapters, so hang on!

XOXO

RynStar15


	8. Relictio

Draco smoothed his face into a mask of mild interest.

"Sure, what's up?" he asked, trying to hide the Invisibility Cloak behind his back, but Potter was more observant than he'd hoped.

"Where did you get that?" he accused, standing and striding over to Draco, holding out his hand as if he intended Draco to give it to him. Of course they were supposed to be friends, but Draco was wary. Would he recognize it as his own?

Potter yanked the Cloak from his hands and studied the material before looking back up at him, seething. "Why do you have my Invisibility Cloak?"

 _Fuck._ Seemed this Potter was just as sentimental about the damn thing as the other who had warned him with bodily harm if anything should happen to it on their travels.

"It's not yours," Draco explained, lying through his teeth. Technically it wasn't; it belonged to the Potter he'd left in the real world.

"I think I would recognize my own Cloak," he reprimanded, his face hard, his eyes flashing.

"Go ahead and check your trunk," Draco said resignedly, striding past Potter to pull off his robes and throw them in the trunk at the foot of his bed. His mind was still so full of his problems with Hermione he wasn't in the mood to deal with Potter's accusations.

"Then where did you get this one?" he questioned, tossing it on the bed as Draco peeled off his sweater.

"Moody."

Technically, Potter had given it to Moody to give to them during their last meeting before taking the potion as Moody's was on its last legs and malfunctioning periodically. Potter couldn't stand sending his best friend off with a sub-par Invisibility Cloak, though why the bastard had such a rare item was beyond him.

"Why?"

"Does it matter?"

"It does when you're sneaking around the castle with Malfoy in my stolen cloak."

"I told you," Draco sighed, stepping out of his cheap loafers as he unbuttoned his white Oxford, trying to seem as unconcerned with this conversation as would be natural. "I'm giving her extra potions lessons."

"In the Room of Requirement? The Slytherin common room?" Potter interrogated, waving a piece of worn parchment under Draco's nose. He had no idea what it was supposed to be, but presumably "Leon" would. So he shrugged, tugging off his shirt and adding it to the pile on his trunk.

"Better than sneaking the ingredients out of Slughorn's private store."

"Why would he care when he was the one who assigned you to give the lessons?"

Cursing under his breath, Draco began folding his clothing knowing Leon would do the same. "What do you want me to say?"

"I want you to tell me what the hell you're up to!" Potter yelled. Knowing there was no use in lying as he'd already been cornered, Draco turned to Potter with the sappiest look he could muster.

"Alright, you caught me. I'm seeing Valouris."

Potter blanched. "What the hell do you think you're playing at, Leon? She's a _Death Eater!_ "

"No, she's not," Draco said, watching the rage boil up inside Potter, his face reddening.

"How do you know that?" he sputtered.

"How do you think I know that?" Draco snapped back.

"You – you – knowing full well she might…how could you?" Potter seethed. "I'm over here trying to rid the world of Voldemort and you're _shagging_ his cronies?"

"It's not like that," Draco growled, his own temper rising, knowing it was Hermione that Potter was talking about, reminding himself Potter had no idea that Valouris _was_ Hermione. "She's not one of them."

"Like hell, she's not! Look at who her father is!" Potter screamed, his arms flailing.

"She's not her father," Draco replied darkly, that familiar rage of being labeled under his father's faults boiling up. "You need to listen to me-"

"Just because she's bending over for you doesn't mean I'm going to believe her lies!" Potter snarled. "How could you do this, Leon? How could you turn on us, on _me?"_

"I haven't turned on you! Just listen to me for one minute and I'll explain-"

"No, I don't want to listen to your excuse!" Potter bellowed, pulling his wand. "You need to choose your side right now. Who are you with, us or her?"

"Dammit, Potter, put that away!" he barked, scrubbing his face. "You're being completely mental-"

"I might have guessed this of Ron, I would have understood," Potter said, his voice low, disbelieving. "But not you. I can't believe you would do this."

"Do what? Find the truth in someone we thought was a traitor? Like you asked me to, by the way! She's not with them, she's with us and I can prove it to you if you'd just put down your wand and listen to me!"

Shaking with fury Potter lowered his wand but kept it tightly clenched in his fist. "You have one minute, Granger."

Draco doubted highly that no matter how angry with Hermione he had ever been that he'd used her surname to her face. Which was a daunting revelation making Draco realize he needed to tread lightly.

"You're right. That is your Cloak. But I can also guarantee that if you went up to your dormitory right now you would find the exact same one." Draco knew the plan was to keep everyone in this world on their own tracks, not to let anyone in. But he couldn't keep this from Potter and if Potter believed him, if he could get the Order on his side, it might actually make this whole thing easier...

"What are you on about? What does this have to do with Malfoy?"

"I'm getting there. Potter, I'm not who you think I am." His wand raised again, his stance one of a man ready to duel. Draco put up his empty hands in a show of faith just as Hermione had earlier. "Hear me out. I am one of you. In fact, I'm who you are so mad at currently in the real world."

"You better get to making sense real fucking fast," Potter growled.

Draco cursed, running a hand through his hair. "Alright, look, this is going to take more than a minute to explain. Can we please sit down and discuss this?"

"Spit it out or I'll blow you to bits."

Draco had to force himself not to roll his eyes. "Fine. You're going to need to have a lot of faith for a moment. I can prove it, but not tonight, and I'd prefer you didn't start hexing me on the spot." He sighed when Potter continued his death stare. "I'm from an alternate universe. Sort of. I think. Well, Hermione can explain it better but we took this potion-"

"Who's Hermione?"

"Er, well…me. I guess. Er, me in girl form?" _Shite,_ how the hell was he going to explain this? "See, we switched places, she turned into me and I turned into her but, well, in reverse so I'm sort of the male version of her, to you, anyway, but to her and me I'm just me and she's her. So she's the female Malfoy when really I'm the Malfoy heir and she's your real friend Granger."

And Draco might as well have just punched Potter in the face for all the good his complicated spiel had done.

"Excuse me?" he sputtered, looking utterly perplexed. Draco groaned and tried to remember how Hermione had explained it to him at first. It took a good quarter of an hour, but Potter was finally sitting down looking as though he were doing complicated Arithmancy and Draco's own head felt as though it had been wrung like a sponge.

"So, let me get this straight," Potter said slowly. "You are the Malfoy heir trapped inside Leon's body and Valouris is actually…what's her name again?"

"Hermione," Draco replied, nodding. "I know it sounds mad, but as I told you we did it for a reason in the real world."

"So…this isn't the real world?" Potter asked.

"No, you just think it is. Effects of the spell."

"That must be one powerful spell," Potter murmured, still looking wary. "And, er, you can prove it? That what you're saying is real? That you actually did this?"

"Well, there's always Veritaserum, I suppose, and Hermione can tell you all kinds of stuff that Leon should know but I don't. We're only recently on speaking terms in the real world, you see. Tomorrow, I can get the book with the spell and potion so you can read about it yourself. But for now, I'm going to ask that you take my word for the night and not tell anyone."

"Who would believe me?" Potter breathed. "Wait…" He stood and went to the bed, picking up the piece of parchment he had waved in Draco's face earlier. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." He recited then tapped the page with his wand. His eyes widened and he looked up at Draco then down at the parchment. "It's true, you really are a Malfoy. I've never seen you apart, I always just thought…but it can't have been long, I would have noticed. When did you guys, well, switch bodies?"

"Wednesday night."

Potter nodded, his eyes on the parchment, staring at it in awe.

"So, what's the deal? What good could switching bodies do?"

Heaving a sigh and giving up the idea of any rest tonight, Draco explained the situation. Though he had no idea what the piece of parchment in Potter's hand was, he was grateful that whatever was on it had solidified his belief in him. They were up for hours discussing the current circumstances and Draco could feel the effects of stress and very little sleep and knew he had to be well rested for the day ahead.

"Look, Potter, I'm exhausted, can we discuss this tomorrow?"

"Yeah, right, sure," he said, getting up to leave, eyes still on the parchment before him. He got to the door and turned back. "Look, I know we weren't mates or anything in the other world or whatever, but I want to thank you for all you're doing."

"Don't mention it. Just remember, if any word of this gets out-"

"Secret's safe."

Draco nodded and Potter took his leave. He had no sooner fallen on his bed as the chirping of birds woke him and he turned his bleary eyes to the grey morning and groaned in disgust. As much as he wished to sleep away the day he knew Hermione would need his support and he needed to check on the potion anyway. And homework. It was impossible to believe in this fucked up world that he still had to do homework. Why did Granger have to be so _good?_ Why couldn't she have been a slacker like Weasley?

The cold shower did little but disgruntle him further but he dressed anyway and grabbed his book bag and headed down to breakfast, figuring he could make a straight shot to the library afterwards.

All thoughts of the library were thrust from his mind as he entered the Great Hall and saw Zabini pawing Hermione, whispering in her ear as she plastered on a strained smile, looking as though she hadn't gotten any more sleep than he. She looked up and caught his gaze and he had to force himself to smooth his features, to nod to her encouragingly so that she relaxed and gave him the tiniest of smiles before turning to Blaise to answer something he had asked.

Draco's stomach burned as he watched the two of them over the Sunday Prophet, stuffing pancakes into his mouth mechanically. When Longbottom took a seat beside him he tried to pay attention to the round-faced boy but kept most of his responses to "mhm" and "yeah."

Just as Hermione rose looking incredibly flustered, Potter and Weasley sauntered in and Weasley started in on something about Transfiguration. Draco brushed them off and followed Hermione out of the hall, noting her route toward the library and taking a shortcut, racing through the halls to cut her off. He entered an empty classroom just in time to hear her footsteps on the stairs. He waited for her to come near then glanced up and down the hall, making sure it was deserted, before yanking her into the room. She yelped and he covered her mouth as he placed all the usual enforcements upon the door.

"Stop _doing_ that!" she snapped, stamping her foot as she swung out of his hold. "You scare me to bits every time-"

He cut her off by kissing her roughly, shoving her book bag off her shoulder and tossing his down beside it. He pressed her back into the wall, tearing at her mouth, at her clothes, needing to feel her, to have her, one last time before that prick befouled her.

She whimpered beneath his assault and her tiny hands went instantly to his zipper, yanking it down as Draco tore at her panties, steadying her while she stepped out of them. He helped her push his pants further down and didn't even take the time to remove them before he was lifting her, angling her hips just right, pulling her down onto him, sheathing himself inside her warmth until he wanted to die.

He groaned and thrust into her desperately, finding her lips again as her arms wound his neck, her fingers digging into his back and neck as Draco plowed her into the door which rattled upon its hinges. Her cries rang around the room to mix with the blood roaring through his ears as he took her hard and fast, his hips whipping against her in a frenzy he couldn't contain. He buried his face in her sweet-smelling hair and breathed her in as she clenched around him, close, so close to the edge. She pleaded, begged, his name dripping from her lips as he gave her what she asked for and she exploded around him, her entire body convulsing, her cunt squeezing him tighter as he pumped himself to his own climax, meeting it and falling with her.

Panting, he sank onto the floor, leaning against her to steady himself, then just flopped onto his back, bringing her with him, still connected in the most intimate of ways. She panted above him and reality began to flood back to his brain. He'd just ravished her without thought to her feelings or situation. What if she had gone to meet with Blaise? He hadn't said a word to her, would she be offended? Upset by his rough treatment?

He opened his mouth to apologize for acting like a crazed brute but she turned to him just then, propped herself up on his chest so she could look into his face and that silly, sexy, fully sated smile of a pleasured woman was plastered on her face.

"Why did we never think to do this before?" she asked saucily, her grin infectious. Draco barked out a laugh and massaged her ample arse.

"Maybe you never thought about it, but I can assure you the images crossed my mind on more than one occasion."

Her expression turned questioning. "Really?" she asked, her voice small and disbelieving. "You – you thought about me? Before this?"

He chuckled again. "Hermione, I'd have to be a bloody eunuch not to think about fucking you on a daily basis."

Her expression softened more. "You hardly ever call me Hermione."

Draco stilled. He could see it in her eyes and knew, with a heavy heart, that he had been right last night. He had to stop this. He couldn't allow her to fall for him. It was too dangerous.

"When do you meet Blaise?" he asked, putting her mind back to where it should be. He could see the change, hated that he had to do it, and felt the cold as she left him and knew it wasn't simply from the lack of body heat.

"Nine. We're meeting at the Astronomy Tower," she answered softly as she righted her clothing. Draco snorted at the banality of it all.

"Yes, I thought the same thing," Hermione agreed, waving her wand to clean herself as Draco stood and pulled up his slacks.

"Are you going to be alright?" he asked seriously. When she didn't answer he took her elbow and as she turned her face up to him he was reminded of how very young they both were. Much too young to have to deal with this.

"I'll think of you," she whispered, then grabbed her bag quickly and ran out of the room. Cursing himself and his inability to keep his hands off her, Draco slammed his fist into the door as it swung closed. Growling angrily, he scrubbed his face as if he could rub out the images of Blaise burying his prick into his Hermione.

 _Fuck,_ he thought, pacing the room. _She's not yours, here or there. Get your fucking act together, Malfoy!_

Snatching his own bag from the floor he wrenched open the door and hurried toward the library, secretly hoping she'd be there.

But she wasn't, as he knew she wouldn't be. She had to keep up appearances just as he did and no Malfoy would be caught dead in the library on a Sunday morning, which only led to his guilt as he wondered where she had been off to before he'd ravished her.

He tried to pay attention to his work, tried to write his essays in a manner akin to his Granger self, but his mind kept falling back to that same image, over and over. Her terrified face cowering beneath Blaise's maniacal one as he rutted against her, taking what wasn't his.

He skipped lunch, not able to face the two of them more than necessary and knowing he had to get this work done. By the time dinner rolled around he finally finished and felt a dull headache throbbing at his temples. His growling stomach demanded he not skip dinner so he made his way down, his fists clenched, his face guarded.

And there they were, entwined at the Slytherin table, his hands all over, her dinner untouched. Potter and Weasley sat across from Draco, engaged in talk about the finals, Weasley begging him to copy his Transfiguration essay. Draco finally gave in just to shut him up and Potter kept an irritatingly close eye on his every movement. As the puddings appeared before them Hermione rose, Blaise right behind her. At the door she looked back, her eyes haunted as they caught his.

Cursing soundly and making several younger students gawk at him abashedly, Draco made his way to Gryffindor Tower and his room where he took pleasure in demolishing every object he came across. As he chucked his bedside table at the door it exploded before making contact and Potter's face appeared behind it.

"Care to explain?" he asked, eyeing the room, wand at his side. Draco growled in response, irritated that Hermione seemed to have given him her password. "You know, I am taking an awful lot on faith here. I still haven't decided whether I'm going to rat you out or not."

"If you were going to you would have already," Draco snarled. "Now I suggest you get your little scar- head back to your studies and keep out of this."

"I want to know what is happening. What aren't you telling me?"

"You're the same here as you are there, can't keep well enough alone." Draco strode to the trunk at the foot of his bed which currently had a crater in the center of the mattress, the hangings smoldering slightly, and dug out his bag of potion ingredients. "Now if you'll step aside I have some work to do."

"What work? What are you two planning?"

"Get out of it, Potter," Draco snapped, striding past him and into the common room. Weasley was leaning against the fireplace telling what he was sure was an enthralling – if entirely fabricated – story which was making several girls giggle and screech. He hoped Potter would join the swaggering redhead but no such luck. The gangly annoyance dogged him out of the portrait hole. Sighing in frustration, Draco ducked into a lesser-used hallway and pinned Potter against the wall.

"Look, I told you everything that was going on. You know what we're doing and you know that in just over three weeks we will be gone and none of this will have happened to you. Until then I will need to get shit done and I will need you to cover for me. Got it?"

"Why should I do anything for you?" Potter spat lividly.

"Want to defeat the Dark Lord?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Were you not listening last night? Or has that scar impaired your ability to convert your short-term memory? It has _everything_ to do with it! Now, if anyone asks I'm talking with McGonagall about the last essay. Got it?"

Potter glared at him but when Draco relaxed his grip he merely straightened his robes and took off back from where they'd come and Draco turned on his heel, digging the Invisibility Cloak out of his bag as he went, whipping it around himself. Cursing everything he could think of beneath his breath, he made his way down to the dungeons. He had to wait for the corridor to empty before undoing the locks and secrecy enchantments and slipping inside their secret classroom only to redo them all again.

The potion sat bubbling on a desk, the book next to it. Slamming his bag down on a chair he got to work, glad to have something to take his mind off of the impending night.

He had just added the last of the carefully portioned dragon liver when he glanced up at the clock and noticed it was a quarter to nine. Hoping he hadn't missed her, he cleaned up quickly and, leaving the bag on the table, ducked under the Cloak once more and slipped out of the room.

He waited barely a minute before Hermione strode up the corridor, her face set. Draco followed her through the school up to the stairs of the Astronomy Tower before making himself known. As she stilled at the stairs, obviously readying herself for what was to come, he grabbed her hand. She jumped but thankfully didn't scream.

"Draco?" she whispered. In response, he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her under the Cloak as well in case someone decided to stroll by. He quickly dragged her up, finding her lips and delving in. He told himself he only did this to help prepare her, but he knew it was all for his own selfish need. He let the kiss draw on as long as he dared knowing Blaise was not a patient man. He felt a small amount of satisfaction as she melted beneath his assault, her arms coming around him to cling at his back. With a sound of painful longing Hermione tore away, her hands on his chest as if to stop him from trying to kiss her again. She looked up at Draco, her eyes huge in the dark corridor.

"I-" she started but he shook his head and pressed her forward. She stumbled slightly and Draco could see her hand shake as she placed it on the railing to steady herself. Looking as though she were headed for the gallows she started up and he sank to the floor where he was, his hand on his wand, his stomach twisting.

He waited.

.

.

.

A/N: Alright, y'all, next chapter is about to get dark, so be prepared! It doesn't really get much lighter after that, actually…our couple has had it pretty easy thus far!

Perditrix: My friend, if you think Blaise was an issue before, just wait…

AuraAuthor: If I didn't know any better I'd say you were going into menopause! ;) *hands you ice water*

BoredRavenclaw620: Yes, douche Blaise is douche, but super fun to write! Asshole/evil characters are always the most fun to work with! Although granted, he may have his tantrums for a reason…

LissaDream: Your wish is my command, my dear ;)

XOXO

RynStar15


	9. Sua Salutis

*****WARNING, THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS DUB-CON, IF THAT IS A TRIGGER FOR YOU, PLEASE SKIP THE BEGINNING AND PROCEED TO THE MIDDLE MARKED BY (...)***  
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Hermione took several deep breaths at the top of the staircase trying to forget how terrified she felt and to remember how amazing the kiss she'd just had was. Maybe Blaise would be kind, he might even be a wonderful, caring lover.

But she doubted it.

Knowing she had stalled long enough, she pushed open the door on a long-held breath.

Blaise was waiting for her at the balustrade and turned when she opened the door, a smile blooming on his face.

"Finally," he declared, stepping forward to kiss her, his lips cold and thin, so unlike Draco's. "I'd begun to think you'd forgotten how to get here."

Hermione tried to give an amused laugh but realized it simply sounded strained.

"Happy engagement, my love," he murmured, kissing her deeper. She tried to remember that he had no recollection of last night, no idea that he'd hurt her. He had no clue who he was kissing. To him, this was a celebration with the girl he (hopefully) truly loved. Despite his brutality last night, the poor boy _did_ seem to be rather enamored with his betrothed. It wasn't his fault that she wasn't who he thought she was.

Wanting to just get it over and done with, she looked over to the pile of blankets in the middle of the tower. Candles whose lights did not flicker in the cold breeze were placed here and there and rose petals dotted the flagstone. Hermione wanted to hurl at the overly quixotic setup but instead smiled up at him.

"It's beautiful," she simpered, trying to sound sincere. Apparently it was good enough because he grinned.

"Just like our first date, remember?" he said, his hands coming to her hips, pulling them flush with his own. He bent down and kissed her again, longer this time, his sickly-sweet breath making her stomach churn. She tried to still her shaking as he pulled her closer, his tongue pushing between her teeth to practically choke her. She tried to retaliate but how could she when he was taking up her entire mouth? She begged herself not to be sick when long fingers dug into her bum, clenching harshly. She wrapped her arms around him, trying to touch him as little as possible without making it obvious she was still shaking like crazy. He seemed to notice as he pulled away and chuckled.

"Apologies, Valouris," he smirked, dragging her to the blankets. "I forgot how sensitive you were to the cold. I put a Warming Charm on the blankets. Why don't you lay down?" He gave her a disgustingly roguish look and she tried to smile saucily back. She stumbled over the edge of the covers in her haste and lay down quickly before she embarrassed herself any further. The warmth settled her infinitesimally and she took a deep breath. _Be strong._

He growled as he lowered himself over her and she remembered to open her legs so he could settle between them. She flinched as he kissed her neck, feeling his member pressing against her core. He pulled away, looking at her oddly and she panicked. She knew she must look like a terrified bird cornered by the hungry jungle cat.

"What is up with you tonight?" he asked, seeming put-out.

"I-I, well, I just," Hermione stuttered even as she chastised herself.

 _"Ahhh,"_ he murmured with a smirk, kissing her jaw, his saliva coating her skin disgustingly. "You want to play it this way, do you? Mmm, you know I'm always up for that little innocent act, you minx."

His lips travelled further south as Hermione thanked her lucky star for Valouris' promiscuity. Apparently, role-play was not foreign to them. Closing her eyes so she didn't have to watch as he neared her cleavage, she focused on her breathing. She realized she was just lying there like a statue as his hands roamed her body but she couldn't get herself to touch him. Just keeping herself from reaching for her wand and blasting him across the balcony was almost more than she could stand.

As his hand reached up to grope her breast she jerked instinctively and he chuckled.

"Not going to fight me?"

Hermione opened her eyes and looked at him questioningly. Fight him? Wasn't she supposed to enjoy this kind of thing?

"Come on, love, you know how much that gets me off."

Completely nonplussed, she reached up and shoved his hand off of her and he growled and bit her neck making her jump and jerk away. He grabbed her and pulled her back roughly, sucking where he had just bit her and Hermione could feel his erection growing against her.

This was a game, some kind of sick game they apparently played. But how far did she take it? Would he know if she did something wrong? Taking a chance, she gave into her instincts and shoved him harshly away and he grinned.

"Oh, you think you can push me away, eh? Who the fuck do you think you are?"

Terrified she had gone too far, Hermione tried to apologize, but he simply pounced back onto her and took her lips, suffocating her once more with his intrusive tongue, groaning as he groped every piece of her he could while Hermione continued to struggle.

"Mmm, more," he growled huskily. "Fight me you dirty slut, you fucking whore."

Hermione thought she was going to be sick with how tightly her stomach was knotted. She'd heard about this kind of thing but had never imagined she'd be in a situation in which it would happen to her. While he thought this entire thing was a game, a _pretend_ rape for his sick pleasure, to her it was all too real.

She felt the tears welling at the corners of her eyes as his actions became more brutal and demanding, ripping at her clothes as she struggled to keep them on, to cover herself somehow. His long fingers dug into her flesh and she knew it would leave bruises. The more she fought the more turned on he seemed to get and the more violent he became. Before she knew it her robe and sweater were in shreds beside her and he was shoving her bra roughly above her breasts, grabbing at them greedily as he bit at her jaw only to turn his attention to the newly bared flesh and nipped at the small mounds. Crying out in pain as he bit down, she shoved his head away and tried to turn from him but he pulled her back and pinned her wrists above her head.

"You'll pay for that, bitch."

Hermione couldn't stop the horrified sob that burst from her as she turned her eyes to the sky, focusing on the stars to keep her mind from what was happening to her. He didn't seem to notice and only continued his painful exploration of her.

"Turn over," he snapped, releasing her wrists. She started to roll over as commanded but apparently didn't do so fast enough because he pushed her onto her stomach and dragged her to her knees so that her bum was in the air, her skirt falling to her waist, exposing the lacy panties Valouris seemed so fond of. He made a sound of approval and Hermione jumped and gasped when he smacked her soundly on her backside.

"Yeah, you like that don't you, Val? Like it when I spank you. Want me to do it again?" Squeezing her eyes tight Hermione brought Draco's face to the fore of her mind, then Harry and Ron. She had to do this, had to get through this for them. It would be over in no time and she would be back with her friends, safe.

Sucking in a bracing breath, Hermione nodded. He spanked her again, harder this time, and then rubbed the stinging flesh. Hermione swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat and tried to recall the twelve uses of dragon blood as Blaise dragged off the panties leaving her completely bared to his vision. Only the knowledge that he was seeing Valouris and not really her kept her on the brink of sanity. He wasn't doing this to her. He couldn't touch her. Only Draco could.

Hermione let out a startled sound when his cold fingers massaged her slit. _Draco, Draco, Draco_ , she chanted, trying to pretend it was him. But it felt nothing like the intimacies they had shared. She remembered the feeling that had stolen over her at his touch, like lava flowing through her veins.

"Getting wet for me, aren't you? You want me to fuck you, don't you?" Hermione nodded instinctively, realizing that only the thought of Draco had made her wet. If she kept her mind on him, maybe she could fool Blaise into thinking it was for him.

But when he shoved several fingers roughly into her she had to bite back a cry of pain and knew it would be harder than she'd planned as he treated her nothing like Draco did.

"I make you scream, don't I? _Don't I?_ "

"Yes," Hermione sobbed. Her face screwed up against the pain of his rough ministrations she turned her attention once again to the image of Draco filling her, holding her tight as he rocked against her, his lips caressing that spot right behind her ear that made her entire body tingle.

"Mmm, I just want to fuck that pussy. Do you want me to fuck your pussy, slut?" Blaise asked, leaning over her to bite her shoulder so hard that she cried out, the sharp sting cutting through her. She wouldn't be surprised if he'd drawn blood.

"I asked you a question!" he yelled and he pulled his fingers from her to give her a resounding slap on her ass only to ram what felt like all four of his fingers back into her so hard she screamed.

"Yes!" she cried. Pleading that he would just do it already, she pulled away from his brutal treatment unconsciously only to have him drag her back and slap her again before continuing to fuck her with his fingers, his other hand coming to pull and knead her breast harshly as she shied away from him. He kissed her shoulder and tugged her upright, his fingers never stopping. Grabbing her hand, he dragged it to his exposed cock which he had obviously freed while she hadn't been paying attention. Remembering what Draco had taught her she stroked it slowly, keeping her face turned away from him to hide her teeth digging into her bottom lip to prevent her from crying out in pain.

"Faster, yeah that's it," he groaned. "You sure know how you work that cock, you little whore. Mmm, just like that, yeah." He brushed her hair away, which she'd been using to help veil her face, and returned to slobbering all over her neck which she cricked in an attempt to turn even further from him. She jerked every time the pain caught her off guard and tried to pay attention to the hand on his cock. Without even looking she could tell he was thinner than Draco and hoped this meant it wouldn't hurt as bad when he finally took her. His hips pressed up against her hand and she noticed whenever she ran it over the tip of his penis he would groan and twitch.

The next time she ran her hand over the tip she thought he was done but was disappointed to realize it was only pre-cum. Using this as lubrication and trying to keep the disgust from her face, she worked him harder as he moaned, his fingers stilling to her utter relief.

"Fuck, just like that," he murmured, starting back up with his fingers. When was he going to take her? she wondered. Wasn't this foreplay a little excessive? How long had they been at this now? Her arm was growing tired and the muscles were starting to cramp but she dared not stop because every now and then his fingers would slow and she would get some relief. "Gods, I want to fuck you so bad!"

"Then do it!" she roared, just wanting the whole charade to be over already.

He groaned, grabbing at her breast, resting his sweaty forehead against her shoulder, his fingers restarting, his hips quickening. "Such a fucking tease. Gods, you're going to fucking kill me, Valouris."

A _tease?_ What the hell was he talking about? She was giving him a bloody hand-job and asking him to fuck her, for Merlin's sake!

He pulled his fingers from her and tugged her around to face him where he kissed her harshly, biting at her lips until she squealed in pain. Then, without warning, he shoved her head down toward his cock and she wanted to cry. She had known that this would happen, that he would want this, but it still appalled her.

Swallowing back the searing bile of disgust, she closed her eyes and put her lips tentatively around the head, trying to do as little as possible. He cursed as the salty tang of pre-cum filled her mouth and she pulled her tongue as far back as it would go, using only her lips as his hands fisted in her hair, pulling at it and using it to push her further onto his cock until it was pressing against the back of her throat and she gagged harshly, whimpering in pain and humiliation. He used her hair to pull her head up and down while he swore and moaned above her and tears and snot poured down her face as she struggled to breathe and not throw up. Hermione dug her nails into the flagstone in an attempt to keep her mind off the discomfort. She knew she was shaking and she begged over and over for it all to just end. She wanted to leave, to get as far away from here as possible, to cleanse his touch from her.

 _Please be done, please, please, please_ , she pled over and over as he fucked her mouth for what seemed an eternity, causing her to gag so bad in several circumstances so that she had to pull away as hard as she could just to get some air only for him to shove her roughly back down onto him again while she sobbed as quietly as she could.

"Drop the fucking innocent act, Valouris, and fucking suck me! Fuck, I'm so close, come on, _fuck!_ "

Praying this was the end she pushed aside her disgust and sucked him hard, using her tongue to stimulate him and before she knew it his nails were digging into her scalp and his seed was spurting into her mouth, the taste enough to make her retch, bile crawling up her throat as she swallowed over and over to keep it down before he finally wrenched her away to kiss her roughly.

His kisses slowed until they were almost tender. When he finally pulled away he grinned cockily, wiping at her tear streaked face with the palms of his hand.

"Gods, that was amazing, love. You are such a fucking vixen. Your turn," he smirked. Hermione started.

"What?" They weren't done? _No, no, no, please, no more!_ "No, no, er, I already did! Really, it's not necessary!"

He chuckled. "Oh, really? Since when is once enough for you?"

"Er, since, er, now. I wanted this to, erm, be your – your night, anyway. So, no need to worry about it," she tried to give him a convincing smile. She knew she was messing this up royally but all she could think about was getting back to the dorm and into her own bed and pretending this night had never happened.

"Alright, your loss." He looked her up and down, shaking his head. "I can't wait until this is all over, wife-to-be. This no sex thing is straight up torture. I wish he would reconsider but father said I better stop asking," he chuckled. Hermione tried to join him, running his words around her head, trying to make sense of them. Blaise and Valouris weren't allowed to have sex? But then what about the potion? "Oh well, only a few more weeks I suppose. Then you better believe I'm going to fuck you bowlegged."

"Can't wait," Hermione said, giving him a small smile. He grinned and kissed her again before standing, his waning erection bobbing before her, and started grabbing up his clothes. Taking this queue happily, Hermione retrieved her own and they dressed silently, Hermione having to use her wand to fix her clothes before Scorgifying every inch of herself while his back was turned, including her mouth.

.

...

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Blaise pulled out his wand and Vanished the blankets and candles then took her hand and led her back into the blessedly warm school, every step painful for Hermione. At the bottom of the stairs he whipped her around and kissed her deeply, then pressed her gently down the hall.

"Get on to bed, my love, I have some business I need to attend to," he murmured.

"At this hour?" Hermione asked curiously. "What-"

"I don't believe it is any of your concern, Valouris," he snarled, his eyes, a second ago warm and sparkling from their interlude, now cold and dark. "Get to bed. And take your potion."

Would Valouris fight him, or do his bidding? Before she could make up her mind something pulled her, causing her to take a step back and her heart to shoot into her throat. The pressure, she realized, was a hand, Draco's invisible hand, on the back of her robes. Taking his cue, she nodded at Blaise and hurried down the hall, more comforted than she cared to admit to feel the heat of Draco's body next to her. He'd waited for her.

Four floors down he pulled her into an empty classroom that students routinely used as a study room between classes. She waited patiently as he added the protective spells and attempted to still the tremors that wracked through her. But as soon as he materialized before her she dove into his arms, needing his comfort, his familiarity, his warmth in this cruel, confusing, cold world. They said nothing and Hermione allowed herself to be weak for just a moment as she tried to wipe the last hour from her mind.

He finally pulled away, his face wan in the garish light of the moon streaming in through a window. He smoothed down her hair which must surely be a mess from Blaise's fingers. Unexpectedly the image of his erection slamming into her throat repeatedly overcame her and she tore from Draco before falling to her knees where she was sick over and over. Shame coursed through her as she felt Draco's hands gather her thick hair, holding it back from harm as she emptied her meager dinner onto the cold stone.

When her stomach finally settled, she fell back onto her heels with a sob and took the handkerchief Draco offered to wipe the streaming tears from her face and the sick from her mouth. Draco cleaned up the vomit and Conjured a glass, filling it with water and handing it to her. His kindness made her want to cry harder, her emotions in turmoil, but she took the water and used it to work that hot ball of tears back.

Exhausted, she leaned back against a table leg and looked up at Draco whose expression was guarded. Hermione wished she could read him.

"Thank you," she whispered. He only nodded and continued to watch her as if afraid she might shatter at any moment. She couldn't think of anything to say, her mind whirling with everything that was happening. She felt dirty, used, violated. A part of her wanted to be alone, to jump in the shower and wash away any evidence of Blaise's presence. But another part, a much larger part, wanted to bury herself in Draco's arms, to let him take away her pain, to remind herself of the warmth she had found there.

And suddenly that need consumed her.

"Will you do me one last favor?" she asked, setting down the glass. He gave her a curt nod, his face hard. "Will you make love to me?"

Surprise flashed across his face so briefly she almost thought she imagined it, but plowed on before he could say anything. "Because I can't stand the thought of him being the last person to touch me. I need you to take his hands off me, I need you to show me it's not like that, it's not... Please, I can't stand it, I can't get it out of my head and I need you to replace it with something better – I just need you, please, I just need-"

He cut her off with a searing kiss, warm, consuming, captivating. _This_ was a kiss; _this_ was what she would spend her nights longing for. He dragged her against him, wrapping her in his warm embrace, pulling them to their knees so they could be closer, so he could touch more of her. He enveloped her, holding her comfortingly as his lips moved slowly, almost cautiously against hers. The tremors lessened until they were washed away on a wave of need as her body simply melted against his lips which were not cold and harsh and demanding, but warm and generous and intoxicating. And when his tongue stroked hers she felt not revulsion, but a burning desire to be closer, to have him inside her, filling her, erasing everything from her but him.

Hermione shoved his robes off his shoulders, needing to get to his skin, to have that contact. He helped her with the buttons on his shirt then pulled that off as well so that she could place her cold hands on his strong chest. He didn't flinch at the icy contact but pulled her back up to his mouth for more drugging kisses until she was caught up in a whirlwind of need, letting it drag her up, up, away from the earth, from reality and pain.

She could feel the gentleness in his touch, more so than ever before, as he eased her robe off her. Contrary to the rush in which they'd just removed his clothing, he took his time with hers, waiting for her to acclimate to each removal before moving on to the next. She knew why he was doing this and her heart swelled at his gentle consideration.

When he pulled off her sweater his expression darkened and she wondered why until he ran his fingers over her shoulder and she felt a sharp sting and remembered Blaise sinking his teeth in there. Hermione slammed her eyes closed as if to block out the image and Draco cupped her face swiftly, his lips massaging her own so sweetly she melted again. She knew he was trying to make her forget just as she'd asked and it only made her fall all the more.

He dragged the kiss on and on and she barely registered her bra skimming off her arms, so enraptured in him was she. One warm hand cupped her gently but his rough palm rubbed against her sore nipple and she gasped before she could stop herself. He pulled back and looked down at her in concern and she was thankful they were out of the line of the moon as she was sure there would be bruises from Blaise's ruthless treatment. No sooner had the thought crossed her mind as a torch blazed to life behind him and she was thrown into its pool of light, the blossoming black and blue marks gruesomely evident.

Hermione turned away, not wanting to see them or Draco's pitying gaze. She jumped when his fingertips glided over her shoulder, pushing her hair off it, only to trail them down her arm making her shiver, a thrum racing from his touch through her body. His warm breath, minty and familiar, grazed her neck, his lips barely brushing the skin, the simple contact like fire, driving all thought of Blaise from her mind as he kissed away the pain of the bite on her shoulder, the marks on her jaw, and down further to her abused breasts. He hooked an arm around her back, drawing her up to his mouth and she let her head fall back in pleasure as he suckled softly, his other hand exploring her smooth stomach, rubbing up her sternum to brush lightly over her other breast and up to cup her neck, to pull her up to his lips where he made her dizzy with need by that simple act.

She strained up toward his touch, pressing their naked torsos together, craving the heat that flared between them. He eased her back onto her robes, lying next to her, one leg hooked between hers. Hermione turned to him, needing to feel him against her, needing that friction, his touch, all of him. He pressed her back gently and lay half on top of her, his kisses growing more ardent, escalating that need. One hand floated slowly down her body giving her ample time to protest but she didn't, couldn't. She needed him, needed what only he could give her.

"Please," she whispered as he hesitated at the waistband of her skirt. He sat up and slowly, so slowly, keeping his eyes on hers, pulled down her skirt and panties in one, easing them down her legs and off, then slid off each shoe and sock lovingly, placing them next to the skirt. He finally let his gaze leave her face and took her in, his lips parting slightly. His grey eyes blazed and she sat up to touch his chest, felt his heart hammering beneath her palm. She realized he must have seen damage from Blaise's rough treatment and needed him to know that it didn't matter, all that mattered was his touch.

She wanted so much to move her hands just inches lower, to tug off his belt, lower his pants, have him naked as she, but they trembled at the thought, the memory of this position so fresh. She could still feel the soreness of her abuse throat, her tender scalp…

She jerked her hands away, her body suddenly turning to ice, the urge to run almost swallowing her. She started to move back but he took one hand, then the other, and placed them both over his heart. He held them there, his skin so warm, so comforting to her frozen body, as one arm slipped around her shoulders, pressing her tightly against him, his cheek resting atop her head. She tried to push the nightmare away, squeezing her eyes against it, as she focused on the slowing beat of his heart beneath her. _Lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub..._ So steady, so strong. She felt herself swaying ever so slightly to the beat and when he kissed her she dove into him, taking what he offered.

He laid her back down with aching gentleness and he settled tenderly between her legs. As his body pressed against hers she realized he was naked, having removed his pants without her notice. He seemed to understand her every need and she kissed him harder with appreciation so intense she was floored. But all thoughts narrowed to want as his lips left hers to travel down her body and she felt herself growing instantly wet at the thought of what he was about to do. She had never thought about that particular act before but it felt so amazing it overrode her prude sensibilities.

At the first touch of his lips against her nub she groaned. Her legs fell open wider to allow him further access, her hips rising to meet his masterful mouth. Her eyes closed on a sigh as his tongue began to work its magic, skimming over her sensitive hood, sending waves of heat washing over her until she was keening. His tongue moved lower down her slit, spreading her lips open. When he reached her opening, she hissed in pain as his ministrations stung her battered core. She watched in mortification as he pulled away to look down at her and his jaw clenched, his cheeks growing red in anger. As he began to pull back she sat up and took his hand.

"No, please," she said hurriedly, knowing he was about to stop. And she couldn't, not yet. She needed his warmth, his strength a little longer, she needed to feel him inside her and know that he was the only one who could make her feel this way, that _this_ was how it should be.

"It's not as bad as it looks," she lied and she knew he knew when his eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Please. Don't stop. I need you, Draco." His hardened expression fell and she could see the debate raging inside him. She knew he didn't want to hurt her any more than she already had been and that thought warmed her and steeled her resolve. "It's alright. Please, Draco."

She pulled him back down and he kissed her harder this time, deeper, an emotion she couldn't place searing through the contact. She felt so close to him right at that moment, as if every part of them was melding, linking them on a level beyond anything they'd ever known.

He never stopped kissing her as he reached down with one hand to work her hood again. Hermione whimpered into Draco's mouth and he dragged her up as she jerked up towards him, using her body to beg him to take her, to ease that ache, but continued to work her harder until her head whipped back and she cried out as her world broke into a thousand pieces.

He entered her then, while she rode the tide of ecstasy, the sharp sting of every cut being ripped open dulled by the pleasure thrumming through her. He never let her fall back down but rode her deeply, taking her expertly, each stroke dragging her higher and higher while his thumb continued to work her nub. He kept her angled just so, hitting that sweet spot with each slow thrust until she was keening, clawing at him desperately. Her second orgasm crashed through her on the heels on the first, the pressure of him filling her unbelievable.

But he didn't stop. He moved languidly inside her, wrapping her in his arms, enveloping her in all that was him, taking her over, taking her under. He kept his cheek against hers, their hot breaths mingling as they clung to each other, pulling each other further into the depths. When she felt him holding back, she urged him on, wanting everything he had to give.

She could feel herself nearing the edge once more as his thrusts grew more urgent, his need fueling hers until she was crying out his name, her nails digging into him, begging him for more, always more. He gave it selflessly, gave all of himself to her, fulfilling her every need. He held her tighter as he whipped against her, angling her just so, working her until her voice was hoarse, until she thought she couldn't take it anymore.

And then they broke through, a ragged groan falling from his lips as he jerked against her, his name wrenched from her throat as she spasmed below him. Her world went black for a moment, a buzzing filling her ears and travelling through her body until she collapsed, spent, on the hard ground, Draco sprawled above her. Her hands fell lifelessly to her side and she marveled in the rapture of what she'd just experienced.

Draco moved first, his lips wandering over her neck, his hand brushing her hair back softly. Then he skimmed his fingers down to hers and entwined them, dragged her hand to his mouth where his lips kissed each knuckle. Her heart stuttered in her chest at this intimate gesture and she raised her other hand up his sweaty back to his hair, playing with it lazily as he pressed the back of her hand to his lips and kept it there, the heat of his breath playing over her fingers.

They stayed like that for what seemed an eternity doing nothing more than breathing together. She had never loved anyone more than she loved him at this very moment and she had never been so thankful for anything in her life as she was that he had come into it.

He looked up at her then as if he could hear her thoughts. She realized he hadn't said a word to her since their encounter this morning. She didn't know what to say to him, didn't know how to express everything she was feeling right at that moment. He seemed to understand and leaned forward to lay the sweetest kiss upon her lips. Then he slowly, gently, eased out of her. Hermione forced herself not to make a sound even though it stung, but she knew he knew. He knew everything about her, it seemed.

He stood and pulled her to her feet. For a moment, he just looked down at her, running his hand over her hair. But then he reached down and handed her her bra and moved on to find his own clothing. They dressed slowly, dragging on each moment knowing they must part soon.

When they finished he wrapped the Cloak around them and took her hand. He walked her to the dungeons where she whispered the password to the common room and expected him to leave her there, but he led her straight through the deserted room to the stairs where she stalled until he pressed her forward. Wouldn't the alarm go off if he stepped on them? But he followed her all the way to her bedside without incident and she didn't question, not wanting to pierce to sanctity of the night. They glanced around at the curtain drawn beds, the soft sounds of sleep assuring they went unnoticed.

Hermione turned to him under the Cloak and rose up for a goodnight kiss. Their lips lingered as long as they dared but he finally pulled away. With one last kiss to her knuckles he slid the Cloak off her and she watched the dormitory door open and close silently.

When she finally lay in bed, the blankets pulled up to her chin, her only thoughts were of Draco's arms around her.

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CatwinWo: I do love to spoil my readers! I updated as quickly as possible so you didn't have to hold your breath too long! Also, who doesn't want to get ravished by Draco against a classroom door, amiright?

BoredRavenclaw620: I know, poor Hermione :( but at least she has Draco there to make it all better! Yes, these two are in for dark days ahead, I'm afraid. Think Harry will step up or turn on them…?

AuraAuthor: Sorry, dear reader, no can do. Unfortunately, it was very necessary that Draco allow that scene to unfold. But he was there to kiss and make better!

everlastingtrueromance: Yes, decking your fiancé is not exactly the kindest gesture, but unfortunately in this world he was raised to believe it was encouraged to keep your Pureblood woman in line. And Valouris seems to have been treading that line… But hey, Draco got the last shot! Yay! Bet you hate Blaise even more after this!

Perditrix: I know I've found a reader of my own heart when I say it's going to get dark and they celebrate, lol! If that's the case, this is the story for you, my friend!

XOXO

RynStar15


	10. Missio de Valouris

**Warning: This chapter contains material that some readers may find offensive.**

Draco didn't sleep. Under his cloak of invisibility (or, more accurately, Potter's) he walked the grounds, watching the Dementors' mist rise and swirl over the dewy grass. By the time the sun rose behind the grey shroud he was decided. Whatever was going on between Hermione and him definitely had to end. He should have ended it yesterday like he'd told himself. But it seemed that when it came to her he was weaker than he had anticipated.

And last night after…her eyes had been so haunted, her tears so painful to watch. He could only imagine what had happened up on that tower. He'd certainly played over any possible scenario on his nighttime stroll, no matter how hard he'd tried not to. He just couldn't push the image of her battered person out of his mind and every bruise, every scratch, presented a new and terrifying picture of her abuse. Had she struggled? Was that why he was so rough? They were supposedly engaged and though Draco highly doubted Blaise's capability to love anything other than money, he must have some tender feelings toward Valouris.

Or was he simply using Valouris as a means to an end, certainly not worthy of any show of kindness behind closed doors? How different was this Blaise than the Blaise he knew in the real world? How much more hardened was he?

Draco worried about Hermione, about her ability to continue with this plan. They were only four days in and already she'd suffered abuse from his mother and Blaise and been forced to give up something he was certain she'd held fondly onto in hopes of waiting until marriage. And if that wasn't enough, Blaise had likely impregnated her last night.

That was if _he_ hadn't before.

The thought had stricken him to a dead halt somewhere around dawn. He hadn't used any kind of contraception at all yesterday. With all the fertility potions being pumped into her it was unlikely she _hadn't_ conceived. And if she had with him in that classroom, that meant she hadn't conceived Blaise's. Would they be able to tell the difference? Would she be punished, possibly killed, if they found out it wasn't his? And further…after they got back to their world…would she want to keep the baby? Would he? Instinct told him it wouldn't be smart to have a child now, and certainly not with someone who would never marry him…they were both too young and he would never burden her with raising the child alone. He would want to be there, and he was sure the Weasel would not permit this.

The only thing they could do now was to get rid of the child they had created (which lodged a heavy stone of disappointment deep in his gut he didn't want to explore) and have her lay with Blaise somehow before the meeting tonight. And she would need another Fertility Potion as well, just to ensure…

Fuck, how had this all gotten so complicated? His head was pounding as he snuck back into the school which was wonderfully warm compared to the icy grounds. He met only a somber Grey Lady on his trek to their classroom they had claimed for their potion brewing.

Draco was startled when he walked in and saw Hermione leaning over the potion, ladle in hand, her brow furrowed in concentration. She looked up from the steam and gave him a small smile as he pulled off the Cloak.

"Thought I'd get an early start," she said quietly, gesturing to the potion. He nodded and joined her, sticking his hands next to the flames to warm them. He looked up when he noticed she was staring at him.

"Why are you so flushed?" she asked, raising a hand to feel his forehead, then his cold cheeks. "You're not coming down with something, are you? Draco, you're freezing!"

"I went for a walk," he explained, moving his face away from her warm hands, away from the stirring deep within him from the simple touch. She dropped them to her sides and moved to the cutting board to continue chopping nettle quills.

"I see."

He knew he'd upset her and reminded himself this was a good thing. She needed to keep her distance, because if she got too close he knew he would just fall under her spell over and over. Keep to the task.

As he began setting up another cauldron for the Termination Potion (which his father had taught him and forced him to memorize) she looked up questioningly. He chewed over the best way to explain the situation and decided giving it to her straight was the best method.

"I'm fixing up a Termination Potion. I forgot to use any kind of contraception yesterday, which I sincerely apologize about. And, well, since you've been taking so many Fertility Potions there's not really a chance you didn't conceive..."

She blanched and he took an automatic step forward in case she decided to faint on him. But she kept her feet, her eyes wide, and brought her hands to her stomach. Draco tried not to think about what was behind those hands. She leaned heavily against the table and closed her eyes, her fingers digging into her abdomen. He didn't know what to say to her, how to comfort her. Should he apologize again? Or would that just upset her? What he hated most was what he had to say next.

"There's more," he continued softly. When she looked up at him her face was ravaged with misery, mirroring that ball he kept tucked deep inside. "You'll need to take another Fertility Potion afterwards and have sex with Blaise again before the meeting tonight. They'll probably be expecting you to be pregnant, but I don't want to chance them possibly finding out it's not his."

He watched her suck in a very slow breath and let it out, shaking her head.

"What?" he asked. He thought he'd made it all very plain.

"They don't want me pregnant yet. Trust me."

Confused, Draco crossed his arms over his chest and furrowed his brow at her. "Why would they be giving you all those damn potions now if they didn't want you to get pregnant?"

"I don't know."

"Then how do you know they don't want you pregnant?" And how could they possibly stop it if she was on the potions?

She looked so much older than she had yesterday when she looked up at him, her body sagging beneath the weight of her responsibilities. "Because Blaise wouldn't have sex with me."

To say he was shocked to hear this would be a gross understatement. "Wait – _what?"_

She shook her head again, pushing off from the table to sink onto a chair, her hands clenching together tightly. "He wouldn't, he refused. Said we couldn't, Voldemort gave him orders specifically not to."

He sputtered, staring at her in disbelief. "The Dark Lord told Blaise he couldn't fuck Valouris?"

She nodded.

Draco pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead and rubbed the ache there. "I'm lost."

"That makes two of us."

"So…he doesn't want you pregnant?"

"I guess not."

"Then why-"

"I don't know, Draco," she said wearily. "The only thing I can guess is that we have to wait until marriage. I'm assuming I will find out tonight when that will be. But I can't imagine they will want us to wed until after we graduate. If so, we won't have to worry about that particular problem. I'm sure they'll want to make a huge spectacle out of it with all the plans those chits you call mates are drawing up."

It made sense. Of course they would wait until school was over. A union of the Zabini and Malfoy lines would denote a mass celebration which they certainly wouldn't be able to do while the two were working on finals. Which meant there had truly been no reason for Draco to seduce her and take her virginity, a fact which was more than blatant on her face.

"Hermione...gods, I'm so-"

"Don't," she begged, not meeting his gaze, her eyes closing. "Please, just...don't.

He nodded, though she couldn't see, and his stomach roiled in guilt. She shouldn't be here, she shouldn't have to go through this, he should never have touched her. He should have been stronger, then she would have been free to give herself to Weasley or Potter or whomever and she wouldn't be faced with aborting their child, wouldn't have to live with the memory of giving something so precious to someone so undeserving...

He sighed heavily, scrubbing his face. There was no point in dwelling over things he couldn't fix. He needed to focus on what they would do from here on out.

"I suppose if they don't want you pregnant right away then there's no reason for you to take that damned potion anymore, is there?" he asked.

"I think I should keep it up simply for appearances sake. If he won't have sex with me then there shouldn't be a problem. The potion won't hurt me; I've looked up the possible side-effects. But with all of them watching me like a hawk to ensure I take the damn thing it'll just be easier to do so."

And he would just have to be sure to stay far, far away from her. They were silent for a few moments but finally Draco steeled himself enough to turn back to his potion.

Hermione didn't move from her chair the entire time he worked. Out of the corner of his eye he watched her wrap her arms around her stomach, her eyes shut tight.

The potion was simple and only took him ten minutes. As he Conjured a goblet he reminded himself that they had to do this. There wasn't an option. There never was. If he had kept his mind about him in the first place this never would have happened. And it wasn't like he wanted a kid anyway, he was barely more than a child himself.

He turned to her, goblet full, his knuckles white from clenching it so tightly, and stilled. She hadn't changed her position, still cradling her stomach as if she could protect the child from the inevitable. He couldn't imagine what she was going through. He'd never actually had to use this potion, always having remembered the contraception, but had kept it to memory just in case he needed to whip it up in an emergency. Like this. But he had never imagined how hard it would be to actually give it. He'd always figured if he'd had to make the damn thing he would shove it down his current conquest's throat if she tried to protest. But now, if Hermione protested…could he say no? Could he really force her to take it?

Before he could move to her she looked up, her features wan under the makeup Valouris required. He watched her brace herself, watched her stand, straighten her robes. He walked to her and simply stood there looking down at her. She finally met his gaze and gave him a weak smile he knew she put on for his benefit. Then she put out her hand and he pressed the goblet into it.

She cupped it with both hands and raised it up several times, breathing shallowly, before finally swallowing it in one, her face twisted when she pulled down the empty goblet which fell to her side, clenched tightly in her fist as if she were strangling it. She raised her other hand shakily to her mouth looking as if she might be sick. Draco put a hand on her shoulder, hoping to steady her, to let her know she wasn't alone, but she shrugged it away and turned from him. She walked to the table and set the goblet down gently on the scarred wooden surface and leaned heavily against it, hanging her head. Draco said nothing but watched her, waiting for her to break down, to cry it out. But she did neither.

"You should get up to breakfast," she finally croaked, her voice harsh and forced. "I'll finish up here."

Draco knew she needed her time alone, so he grabbed the Cloak and headed for the door. He stalled for a moment, wanting to say something, anything. At a loss of what he could possibly say to make this better, he ripped open the door and made for the Great Hall.

.

.

.

Hermione struggled to keep herself upright until the door closed behind Draco. Once she knew he was out of ear shot she let out the shriek of pain that had been building up inside her and dropped to the floor, clutching her stomach.

The wrenching pain was intense but blessedly brief and she gasped in the wake of it. Pulling aside her robe she looked down to see the blood gathered between her thighs and let out a shuddering cry, her entire body shaking so hard she couldn't grab her wand. She gave up and simply curled into a ball, sobs wracking through her.

They'd killed their own child. She'd never had a religion, but she hoped that if there was a hell that she would burn in the deepest layer of it for all of eternity.

It took her several minutes to gain control enough to clean the mess and remind herself that they didn't have any option. Not in this. They couldn't keep it. It could jeopardize everything; this entire mission, their lives, the lives of everyone else if they failed. It wasn't as if she was ready to be a mother anyway. Certainly not out of wedlock, and certainly not with a man who would never be there for the child. She couldn't imagine Draco would have wanted to have anything to do with it. But still…she could have tried…

 _No. Don't do this to yourself,_ she scolded. _You did what you had to do. It didn't feel a thing, it was only a mass of cells, not even a child at all. You'll have your own baby someday. With your husband. This one never had a chance. They would have found it and killed it. And you. And Draco. And without us the others wouldn't stand a chance. You are the world's only hope. With responsibility comes sacrifice._

The pep talk calmed her measurably. She spent several more minutes lying on the floor in mourning but knew she had to finish adding the nettle quills and get to class. She had to move on.

The day rushed by in a haze of color and sound, little registering to her numb brain at all. She kept an outward appearance of normality, even kissing Blaise on the cheek when she sat next to him for lunch. By the time they retired to the common room for the evening she had her mind on the upcoming meeting. If she was going to get through this she had to clear her mind.

So she joined her little girl gang and broached the subject of her upcoming nuptials and this gave her ample opportunity to work on her Occlumency while the girls prattled on, pushing back every memory which might give her and Draco away and tucking it behind the white wall she'd built during the lessons with Moody. When Millicent handed her the potion she took it without fuss although the vast amount of Firewhiskey had her head swimming.

The common room emptied slowly. At fifteen after eleven she stood and went to Blaise where he and his lot sat snickering about something vile, no doubt. She leaned down to his ear and told him she was dressing and to meet her here in half an hour. He nodded and leaned up to kiss her, something she was slowly growing accustomed to even if it revolted her.

The girls joined her in the dormitory and she shook them off in the bathroom, snapping at them all to get to bed. They did as they were told and she took out the small package Narcissa had given her and opened it, revealing a shrunken pair of emerald green dress robes. She enlarged and donned them, the silky material floating around her, softer than anything she'd ever felt before. The top dipped into a dangerous sweetheart neckline, showing all too much cleavage, the tight sleeves coming to a point at the base of her middle finger. It was beautiful, if a bit revealing.

She re-did her makeup meticulously and piled her curls on top of her head in an elegant twist. Grabbing her cloak off her bed, she slipped into a pair of dangerous looking heels and made her way down to the common room with minutes to spare.

Her stomach was in knots as she descended the stairs into the now empty room. Blaise looked up from his seat in his usual armchair and rose, a grin spreading across his face.

"You are an absolute goddess, Valouris," he murmured, taking her hand and kissing the back of it making her think longingly of Draco. He took the heavy cloak from her hand and draped it around her, fastening it before looking up at her fondly. "Shall we?"

She took his arm and the two of them made their way out of the castle, keeping to shadows to ensure they were not seen. She noticed he kept his wand in hand and didn't want to think about what might happen if they did indeed come across a teacher or prefect. She wondered if Draco had patrol tonight, wished he were there with her.

Hermione wrapped her cloak tightly around herself, annoyed with the permanent cold, her other hand holding the long robes above the dewy lawn. Blaise kept them at nearly a trot as they crossed the vast lawns toward the gates, his eyes everywhere.

The moment they crossed over the protective barriers, leaving the gate slightly open for their return, Blaise gripped her elbow tightly. Her stomach twisted as he Apparated them and they landed on a barren lane hedged by ominous looking briar. He pulled her to the shadows of a tree and they stood there silently for several minutes. Hermione wondered whether this was normal or whether she should be asking Blaise as to why they were simply lurking in the dark instead of heading to the meeting. But fear kept her tongue glued to the roof of her mouth and she swallowed her questions.

The sound of Apparition met her ears and she jumped slightly when a cloaked figure appeared before them. The man did not greet them but simply turned on his heel and Blaise started after the man, Hermione hurriedly falling in behind, trying to look as though she knew what she was doing. She wished Draco were here to help her, to explain what was happening. In all their discussions of how these meetings went he'd never once mentioned this.

The man turned sharply in front of tall, wrought iron gates of an unimaginably large manor and walked straight through with his left arm raised. It suddenly became clear as to why they had waited for this man: apparently one needed a Dark Mark to enter and since neither she nor Blaise had one they would need a senior member to let them in. Draco had explained that as it was his home he was allowed entrance, but would she have been able to get Blaise through? Was that why they'd had to wait?

The gate simply melted away to reveal a sinister black mansion which was daunting in size. Lush gardens sprawled around them as the three of them made their way silently up the immensely long gravel path. Hermione smiled at the albino peacocks, remembering when Draco had told her about the creatures. She'd burst into a fit of laughter and he'd tried to scold her for mocking his father's ostentatious boast of prosperity but had finally given into the laughter as well. It had been the first time Hermione could ever remember seeing him laugh when it wasn't in sick pleasure of someone else's pain. Gods, how she wished he were here...

The doors opened automatically at their approach and Blaise stopped her in the entrance hall and gave her a kiss.

"I'll see you in a few minutes, my love," he said, then followed the silent, mysterious man through a door to their right.

Hermione froze. Another thing Draco had never mentioned. What was she supposed to do? Where was she supposed to go? She had planned on just following Blaise to wherever the meeting was supposed to take place, but he'd made it clear she should be elsewhere. For once she wished Blaise wouldn't leave her, he was her single lifeline here...

"Valouris?" Hermione looked up, relieved to see Narcissa striding up to her, a pinched look on her fair face. "There you are. Well, come along, they'll be starting in a few minutes."

Hermione followed Narcissa up the sweeping grand staircase and into a lush parlor where several other women lingered. Narcissa rounded on her as she entered the room, Bellatrix hurrying up to her sister's side, both of their faces anxious.

"Did you get it?" Bellatrix snapped and Hermione had to bite back the revulsion she felt at the mad woman's presence.

"Bella, really," Narcissa scolded as Bellatrix grabbed for Hermione who jerked back instinctively. "Well? Did he ask you or not?"

Hermione realized they were talking about the engagement. "Yes, he did."

"Good. Then come along, we only have a few minutes."

Narcissa led her to a vanity table where she was primped even more and an extravagant emerald necklace was draped across her neck. Bellatrix stood back scowling while the other few women preened over Hermione while they discussed wedding plans much like their daughters had. Finally, they all ushered her to the door and Narcissa sent one woman out to see if the men were ready.

"You keep that tongue in your head, hear me?" Narcissa admonished quietly so as not to be heard by the others. "This is our last chance. Do not fail us."

"I won't," Hermione answered and Bellatrix snorted derisively behind her shoulder. Narcissa glared at her older sister before turning back to her daughter, smoothing her robes and tucking a stray hair onto her extravagant up-do.

"Wait until I am at the bottom of the stairs to come out. Your entrance is of the utmost importance, do you understand me? He needs to see you are no longer a child."

Hermione nodded and willed the shaking in her hands to desist. She was apparently about to face Voldemort, really face him. Terror knotted in her belly and she fought to keep her face void of emotion. She had thought she was here for a meeting, to listen to Voldemort rant and rave and plan. She was going to stand in the back unnoticed, memorize his monologue to take back to the Order. It seemed, as she had with everything thus far, she'd underestimated her summons.

The woman came back and smiled, the action making her horse face even harsher in the low lighting of the room. "He is ready for you."

Narcissa held Hermione back as the other women filed out, Bella chucking her on the chin as she strode past. Narcissa nodded one last time to Hermione before striding after her sister. Hermione watched through the crack in the door as Narcissa simply glided down the curved staircase, one hand resting softly on the banister. She saw the tall form of Voldemort standing before a sea of black, just in front of Blaise who was on his left, Lucius to his right where Narcissa joined.

A tremor of fear overtook her and Hermione sucked in a great, steadying breath. She could do this. She didn't know what she was doing or why, but after last night she felt confident she could get through whatever strange initiation this seemed to be. Steeling herself, she strode from the room purposefully, her back straight, her chin up, poised like she owned the world, just as a Malfoy would. She approached the stairs, placed her fingertips lightly on the rail, and attempted to float as she'd watched Narcissa do.

Every step was like tightening a rubber band on her insides as Voldemort's serpentine face came into view. But she kept his gaze, those red eyes locked on hers. She kept her mind blank in case he decided to take a gander through it, but she reached the bottom of the stairs without incident and stood silently, awaiting a signal as to her next move, looking at no one but Voldemort.

His terrifying face suddenly broke into what she could only surmise was supposed to be a smile, though it only made the fear in her increase tenfold rather than put her at ease.

"My dear Valouris, you look simply exquisite," he said, reaching out his hand. Hermione remembered Draco's instructions and she took his icy grip without hesitation and bent her head to kiss his fingers, sinking into a low curtsy, her head down, her robes flowing around her.

"You are too kind, my lord," she replied demurely. She could hardly believe how smoothly the words flowed from her as her very soul trembled in fear at this monster's proximity. She had to keep reminding herself that this was just an act, a game. She could get through this.

He pulled her up from her curtsy and dropped her hand with a gesture. "Come, let me see you."

With a glance at Narcissa who nodded fractionally, Hermione turned slowly on the spot feeling like a concubine on display. She wished she knew what this was all about.

When she looked back up at Voldemort he was still grinning. "You have grown to be an exceptional beauty, Valouris."

Hermione curtsied again. "You humble me, my lord."

"You are prepared to redeem yourself after your rather unfortunate incident last year?" he challenged, his smooth brow raised.

"Yes, my lord. I will do anything you ask of me. I am your loyal servant."

His smile turned cold with skepticism. "We shall see. You aware of the task you have been bestowed?"

Hermione's heart turned to ice. She had no idea whatsoever if Valouris had been told about the task or not. With all eyes on her she was unable to look to Narcissa for help again. Her mind spun out of control, scrambling for the right words.

"The task you entrust me with will be dutifully executed, my lord, I can assure you," she simpered, hoping these were not the last words she would utter. Sniggers rang throughout the room but when Voldemort raised one white fist they ceased immediately.

"And you have been taking your potions?" he questioned, his eyes narrowing. Hermione nodded once.

"Every night, my lord, as ordered."

"And you are…untouched?"

These last words simply dripped from his mouth and the silence in the room was palpable. Hermione couldn't breathe, could hardly think. Untouched…what did he mean by that? As in _virgin?_ Surely not…

Hermione glanced at Blaise who was still as stone then to Narcissa whose eyebrows were raised and Lucius who looked ready to murder. What was going on? She couldn't think of any other meaning it could be…but what about the list?

Her heart sank. What if she just hadn't had sex? What if Valouris had been promiscuous in _other_ ways? Blaise had called her a tease… What if she'd been keeping herself for her marriage to Blaise? This terrifying thought stole the breath from her lungs.

 _Oh, gods, what have I done?_

"Of-of course, my lord," she stammered, cursing herself, fear coursing through her as she was sure she had given herself away. But Voldemort only grinned more broadly.

"I seem to have embarrassed our little virgin," he proclaimed to the room at large and chuckles rang throughout the hall. A blush crept onto her cheeks and Voldemort took her hand, kissing it with a deviant look in his eye, as Hermione swallowed back the bile that stung the back of her throat. "Then I shall see you at midnight on the fifth."

Hermione curtsied once more, hoping she wouldn't be sick. "Yes, my lord."

"Mr. Zabini, if you could see your betrothed out before you join us?" Voldemort inquired, turning to Blaise. Hermione could see the astonishment flutter across his face before he fixed it to his usual mask of indifference.

"As you wish, my lord," he said, inclining his head. He walked up to Hermione as the sea of Death Eaters moved to a room down the hall, Lucius breaking free from the throng to approach Voldemort to whom he lowered his head.

"My lord, if I may have a moment with my daughter in private?" he asked smoothly. Voldemort raised a brow at his inquiry.

"Of course, but only a moment, Lucius, we have important matters to discuss this evening."

"Yes, my lord."

Lucius walked up to the teens and planted a withering look at Blaise who bowed.

"I'll wait by the door, sir," he said then strode across the hall. Lucius grabbed Hermione tightly by the arm and dragged her through the nearest door to an extravagant sitting room and shoved roughly her inside.

"Do not lie to me, Valouris!" he roared, rounding on her as the door snapped shut behind him. Hermione fought the urge to go for her wand, her heart pounding as she looked up to his maniacal face. "We all saw you hesitate and you best believe the Dark Lord will be looking into the matter! Now, tell me the truth, have you lain with someone?"

Hermione had backed into a couch and gripped the fabric tightly, bracing herself in case he struck.

"No, father!" she cried desperately. "I was telling the truth, I swear!"

He towered over her, so close she could smell his hot breath as he leaned his face into to hers.

"You know what will happen to all of us if you are lying!" he thundered, his hand coming to her throat, cutting off her air supply. "We have one chance and if you are not a virgin when you enter the Dark Lord's bed we are all as good as dead! _Do you understand me?"_

Hermione felt as though her internal organs had simply slid through the floor and puddled at her feet. If Lucius hadn't been holding her up she was sure she would have crumpled right then.

"Yes," she barely choked out.

Lucius huffed above her, his face so much like Draco's. He released her roughly, shoving her back into the arm of the couch which she clung to to hold herself up. She gasped, rubbing her aching throat as he backed up, brushing off his robes.

"We shall all find out very soon. Now give me that necklace and get back to school."

With trembling hands, Hermione reached up and undid the clasp, handing the heavy jewelry to Lucius who snatched it before turning on his heel and striding out of the room, slipping the necklace into his pocket.

Hermione steadied herself before making her trembling way to the lush entrance hall where Blaise waited by the door. He broke into a grin at the sight of her and Hermione tried to smile back.

"Can you believe it?" he whispered, yanking open the door to the cool night and leading her out, his warm hand at the small of her back. "He's letting me in on a meeting! And I don't even have the Mark yet!"

"That's great," Hermione breathed, her mind whirling.

"And after all this is over you and I will be honored beyond all others. Can you imagine, Valouris?" He punched the air and stopped her at the gate. His face fell when he noticed her lack of enthusiasm. "Why the hell aren't you celebrating? It's finally happening, Val! It's what we always wanted!"

"I suppose I'm just a little stunned, is all," Hermione admitted truthfully, forcing a smile up at him. "I can't believe it."

"I know! In a couple months you'll shove that damn thing out and we'll be rolling in gold and we'll be right at his side in everything! We've got it, love!" He grabbed her and swung her around before setting her on her feet and kissing her hard, his delight unequivocal. "I've got to go. See you at breakfast?"

"Of course. And you'll tell me everything?" Hermione went out on a limb, but he smiled and kissed her again.

"Everything."

Then he turned and all but ran back up the walkway to the manor, the door slamming shut behind him.

The night was suddenly icy around Hermione. She lifted a hand to push open the gate but her arm went right through the metal as if it were smoke. She walked forward on shaky legs, peering at the dark brush which surrounded her. Shuddering, she turned on the spot and Apparated back to the tall gates of Hogwarts, staring up at them for a few moments before slipping through them, the dark castle looming before her, a cold breeze ripping tendrils of hair from her carefully constructed bun.

The familiar grounds surrounded her and everything she had learned throughout the night crashed down upon her, sending her to her knees. She didn't even look up when Draco appeared out of thin air in front of her, calling her name. He knelt hastily before her, grabbing her shoulders, forcing her to look up at him.

"Are you alright? Look at me, what happened?"

Hermione focused on breathing and not being sick, swallowing over and over. What could she say? How could she possibly tell him?

"Hermione, talk to me. Are you alright? Did they hurt you?"

She shook her head, hanging it in shame so she didn't have to look at him, feeling the bile pressing at the back of her throat. She wished he would go away and leave her be.

"Look at me, dammit! What happened?"

She sought his eyes and took comfort from the concern in them.

"Get me out of here," she croaked, the words spilling from her without thought.

His brow furrowed. "I'll take you back to the castle-"

"No!" she spat. What the hell didn't he understand? "Get me out of here, we have to leave. We failed… _I_ failed…"

"What are you talking about? Hermione, fucking tell me what is going on!" He shook her, snapping her into focus.

"Draco…I read it all wrong, I'm so sorry…so sorry…I thought, it seemed…but I was wrong. We have to leave, have to get out of here, find another way…"

"Hermione, there _is_ no other way! This is all we have; we have to make this work! Now tell me what is going on, we can figure this out."

Hermione looked up at him finally, taking in his beautiful face, lined with worry, wondering if she'd sentenced him to death.

"He wants a virgin."

She watched his face fall in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

Hermione gave him a twisted smile. "Voldemort doesn't want to put his baby inside someone who's already been touched."

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A/N: Anyone see this twist coming? ;) Also, let me please make clear that I am pro-choice and in **NO WAY** do I think anyone who has an abortion deserves to burn in the "deepest layer of hell." This was simply the portrayal of how I imagined a teenaged Hermione would feel about it. Your body, your choice, this is fiction :)

BoredRavenclaw620: "sweet baby dragons!" Lol, you are too funny. How do you feel about this curve of the ride?

Perditrix: Yeah, Blaise isn't the most likeable character in this story... but to be fair, he didn't actually know he was raping anyone so there's that. And if he wasn't hurting poor Hermione our Draco would have no reason to make her feel better... ;)

AuraAuthor: You're right, these poor kids do go through a lot! Which is why I make up for it by giving them hot, steamy sex ;) and hang on tight, because they'll be dealing with a hell of a lot more before this story is over!

lovesstorylover2000: Thank you so much! I'm glad to have you along for the ride! I can't wait to see what you think about this plot twist!

XOXO

RynStar15


	11. Et Arcavi

Draco's mind went completely blank. For a moment, the only thing he could do was convert oxygen to carbon dioxide and stare into the dark, haunted eyes before him. He could feel the cold breeze, heard the leaves rustling beyond them, an owl hooting its lament somewhere in the distance. It all seemed so surreal compared to the nightmare of the words Hermione had spewed like venom.

"What?" The words ricochet in his head until he was dizzy. "No...no…tell me you're joking. Just - just tell me…"

This couldn't be happening, this could not be happening. Every time he thought their situation could not get worse, their mission more impossible, she proved him wrong. Guilt ripped through him knowing she wouldn't be here, wouldn't be in this unbelievably fucked up situation if it weren't for him. This was so mad, so implausible, it couldn't possibly be real. He just needed to hear it from her, he needed her to smile, to laugh, to tell him it had been a joke, she was just taking him for a turn. But the horrified expression on her face was all the assurance he needed to know that this was all too real.

"What do I do?" she whispered, looking so frightened and vulnerable and so unlike the Hermione he knew. He stared at her incredulously. How could she be asking him? How could Hermione Granger not have a solution?

"Hermione, I-"

But what could he say? He had no clue, not one single inkling of how they could get out of this one. He'd taken her virginity so Blaise wouldn't find out she wasn't really Valouris…but Valouris had been a virgin all along and they wanted to use her…to birth the Dark Lord's spawn…and now Hermione was sucked into this whole damn debacle just so she could get the Dark Mark, to become a Death Eater, something she despised, something she'd spent nearly her entire magical career fighting against. To save his arse. To save Potter's. To save the world.

They needed her. It was the bottom line. Because in the scheme of bringing down the Dark Lord, this mission was the best chance they had. It could be their last. He could find out about the missing Horcruxes any day now, find out about Draco's betrayal. And every single day more innocent people died.

So though he hated himself for it, he knew it was his job in this fucked up mission to keep her going, just as it was her job to do whatever she needed to do to get that Mark. He had been given a task to keep her safe, to do everything possible to make sure she made it through these thirty-one days of hell so that they could get back and finish this whole thing off once and for all.

"Here's what we're going to do," he said after a long time, watching the trust bloom on her face, knowing she was looking to him for a solution. He could only imagine how worn she was from always having to be the person to find one. "We're going to go back to the school. You're going to go to bed. In the morning you will get up and go to class and pretend like nothing has happened. When I have an answer I will owl you. Until then, I do not exist to you. Do you hear me?"

He watched her face fall, watched her withering before his eyes. But she never looked away, her desperate gaze nearly breaking his resolve.

"Please," she breathed. He could feel her fingers digging into his forearms. "Don't make me do this…please, just take me away…I - I can't-"

"You can," Draco encouraged, squeezing her shoulders. "You have to. We need you to keep going. We will find a way to fix this."

He watched tears well in the corner of her eyes, the sight heartbreaking. "I'm so scared. Draco, I'm so scared-"

He pulled her into his arms, dragged her into his lap, held her so tight, as if he could protect her with that simple act. He loathed that he knew he couldn't, that he was the one sending her out there, to what could surely be her death. He was letting her, forcing her, to sleep with the Dark Lord, to bear his child, to take the Dark Mark, to surround herself with the darkest wizards of their time, a Muggle-born in Pureblood clothing. A pure, innocent girl who had to be a strong, black-hearted seductress.

The night pressed in on them, two completely different people thrown together by wild chance and circumstance, lost in a world not of their own with only each other to rely on. Knowing what she had to do, Draco only hoped he would be enough to get her through. She was quite literally the only thing he had in the world right now. He wished he knew what to say to comfort her but he'd never been one with words.

So, though he'd sworn he wouldn't, he tipped her head up and sought out her lips. He could taste the salt from her tears, felt the tremor of her fear, then the slow melting he had grown to live for. He tilted his head and dove in, his eyes rolling behind closed lids when she opened for him so willingly, when she caressed his tongue with hers, when she took control of the kiss and took him beyond thought and reason.

Before he lost himself completely, he pulled back. She looked a modicum steadier. He dragged the pad of his thumb down her cheek where the stain of a tear still resided.

"I wouldn't trust anyone but you to be here with me," he murmured honestly. The moment that passed between them just then was one of the most poignant Draco could ever remember having. When she finally nodded, he stood and pulled her up with him. He looked at her, assessing. Her back was straight, her head held high in defiance, determination shone once more on her face. His Hermione was back.

And fuck, she looked good in dress robes, even with her hair disheveled, her makeup ruined. Standing in the sliver of moonlight, she was the most beautiful witch he'd ever seen in his life.

Shaking the thought from his mind to stem the blood rushing south, he picked up the Cloak from where he'd dropped it, thankful it hadn't been far as it was, well, invisible. They walked silently across the grounds, Draco keeping his wand drawn as a precaution. When they neared the Quidditch pitch he stopped Hermione and wrapped them in the Cloak, tucking her under his arm for the rest of the trek across the vast lawns to the front doors.

They slipped inside but were forced to flatten against the wall when McGonagall tore down the stairs in her tartan robe, her wand aloft.

"Mr. Potter, if you are out here so help me..." she muttered and Draco felt Hermione's shoulders shaking from suppressed laughs. It seemed the staff was more than familiar with Potter's Cloak and were not enthusiastic about his rule-breaking with it. She spent several nerve-wracking minutes scouring the area but, finding nothing, closed the doors and returned to her patrol.

They made their way down to the dungeons and stopped outside the entrance to the Slytherin common room. Draco pulled the Cloak off and was caught off guard when Hermione stood on tip-toe to kiss him softly on the lips. He wanted to drag it out, wanted to cart her off into the room beyond and make love to her, show her she could never be touched by anyone but him. Just the thought had him hardening like a rock, his resolve cracking. Before he broke, he put a hand on her shoulder and stepped away. He kept her gaze as he whipped the Cloak back around himself and turned away, walking straight to his dormitory without looking back.

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.

.

Hermione slept fitfully, tossing and turning with images of Draco and Blaise and Voldemort invading her thoughts, each more disturbing than the last, the dreams so horrific she woke in a cold sweat, the clock telling her it was nearly time to start the day anyways.

The week was like trying to walk through mire for Hermione. She tried to do as Draco told her. She kept to her performance, acting every inch the snotty Slytherin who was about to be handed everything she'd ever wanted in life. She walked the halls hand-in-hand with Blaise, joined the girl's giggly conversations about wedding details, drank her potions without complaint, was rude to unsuspecting Gryffindors. She barely kept up with homework, but this didn't seem to bother any of her teachers, all of them obviously used to Valouris scraping by.

But every passing minute she was finding it harder to keep the smirks in place, to not gaze longingly across the hall at Draco, to not run to McGonagall or Lupin for advice. She itched to go to the library, to research anything and everything she could that might possibly give her some idea of how to get out of this mess. But as a Malfoy she knew she couldn't hole up there like her normal self. So she limited her research to sneaking books during her patrols and reading late into the night sealed up inside her bed.

She'd seen Draco in the library every time she had gone in during regular hours for schoolwork and she knew how hard he was working on trying to help her. She could see the circles under his eyes and knew they mirrored her own heavily concealed ones. The knowledge that he was on her side was the only comfort she had. Though she was loath to admit it, she spent nearly every waking moment longing for his touch, the sound of his voice.

She was horrified when Blaise began making insinuations about another "celebration" and she was finding it hard to find excuses to blow him off. She'd already told him she didn't have remedial potions this week when he had asked why she wasn't going, so she couldn't use that excuse and with the poor amount of work she was getting done with all her worrying it was hard to blame it on the vast amount of schoolwork. So instead she surrounded herself with her "girlfriends" who were growing increasingly annoying and took to snogging him in public once in a while to hold him off. The problem with that was every single time she kissed him, she missed Draco just that much more and it was hard for her to hide her disgust at the other boy's advances.

Which would send her on a whole new spiral of despair realizing that if she couldn't get herself to enjoy kissing a very attractive and doting man and balked at doing anything else with him, how was she going to keep her composure being raped by Voldemort?

Hermione tried not to think about it as much as possible. Anytime the image would cross her mind she would shove it away and force herself to think about Draco or Harry and Ron, her parents, the Weasleys, anything as far away from him as possible. But her dreams was haunted with his red eyes boring into her, his cold hands ripping at her, the searing pain of him tearing into her, the Dark Mark blazing on her left arm. Or else she would watch herself screaming in agony, giving birth to a black, scaly child with a snake-like face, his eyes glowing as red as his sire's.

By Friday she was merely dragging her feet from place to place, so mentally and physically exhausted she could hardly keep up appearances. While she worried anxiously about her slacking performance, this all seemed to work to her advantage. Pansy, ever the dutiful puppy, threw a fit about her coming down with something and forced Blaise to take her up to see Madam Pomfrey.

After Blaise left for class Hermione was forced into a gown and fussed over by the nurse, announced severely exhausted which she blamed on the upcoming N.E.W.T's and her recent engagement. She was given a Sleeping Draught and fell into a blissfully dreamless sleep.

When Hermione woke it was night and she bolted up in bed, disoriented. Her heart was pounding as she tried to remember where she was and why and jumped when a hand came to her shoulder.

"Relax, you're safe, lay back down," Draco's soothing voice said. Hermione looked up at him, ignored his words, and flew into his arms. She didn't think about anyone seeing, didn't worry about what he must think of her, a weak and pathetic child flinging herself at him. She just needed his strength.

He held her for a moment before urging her back down on the bed, sitting beside her.

"I can only stay a few minutes. I had patrol tonight and I'm supposed to be on the third floor. I was worried when you didn't come to lunch or dinner and caught word you were here. What happened?"

"Nothing, I'm fine. I was tired at breakfast and Pansy worked up a huge fuss about it and sent me up here. Not that I mind, it gives me a reason to keep Blaise off me for another day at least," she admitted, sitting back up as he frowned.

"She's not the only one who's noticed a change in your behavior. Hermione, we have nearly three more weeks. You need to take better care of yourself. I imagine you haven't been sleeping well so I slipped some potions from the cupboard into your bag. Take them. Stay rested, stay focused. We'll get through this, alright?"

His voice was so calm, so reassuring that she felt ashamed by her dramatic behavior. He seemed so in control it was hard to worry around him.

"How is the potion coming along?" Hermione asked to change the subject. "I feel horrid not helping you with it."

"Don't worry about it, I can get away easier than you. Not like there's much to do at this stage anyway. Just waiting, mostly."

Hermione twisted her hands together to keep herself from reaching out to him. She wanted so much to touch him, to ground herself, but he seemed so distant, so far away. It was as if he had built up a wall around himself, blocking her out.

"How about you?" she ventured softly. "Are you alright?"

He barked out a cold laugh. "Never better."

"What's wrong? Has something happened?" she worried, the look on his face one of misery.

"No, nothing in particular. But I'm going to be frank. I don't know how you stand being a Muggle-born." When she gave him a questioning look, he explained. "Every day it seems there's another fucking prat hissing some snide remark or another. I spent nearly an hour siphoning all the ink off of my schoolbooks when that fifth-year Slytherin prick Durbin sliced my bag open yesterday. Although I don't think he's laughing so much anymore," Draco snickered, glancing to a bed at the end of the ward. There lay a sandy haired boy covered in angry red boils. Hermione gasped in indignation.

"No, Draco, you mustn't!" she scolded. "You can't let it get to you, you have to brush it off! You're not you, remember? You can't be cursing students, you're Head Boy!"

"Keep your hair on, woman," he said, grinning. "No one saw me."

She gave him a stern look and he tried to bite back his satisfaction, failing miserably, and Hermione felt one of her own smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. It was hard to stay mad at him when he was so bloody adorable.

"You better be right."

He winked. "Malfoy, remember?"

"Granger. Remember?"

"How can I forget? No matter how much I shower I still feel dirty."

Hermione smacked his arm as hard as she could and he laughed before grabbing her hand and kissing her knuckles while she tried to tug it away.

"Feisty tonight," he murmured, his lips creeping up to her wrist sending waves of heat shooting straight to her core. By the time he'd made his way to the inside of her elbow her lungs seemed to be working extra hard to send oxygen to her buzzing brain and her entire body was crackling with heat. He looked up at her, his eyes blazing with desire. When his face hardened and he started to pull back, she reached up to grab his neck and yanked him down to her, taking charge and kissing him long and deep, exploring his mouth, riding on the need that enveloped her.

With a groan he grabbed her and pressed them together, chest to chest, his hands delving into her hair, her body catching on fire. Her hands worked without thought, tearing the tails of his button-up out of the waistband of his pants, shoving under to feel his strong chest, to grab at the hard muscles of his back and bring him even closer. Grabbing his belt she pulled him down on top of her, needing that contact, needing him.

He wrenched his face away from hers, panting hard.

"We can't do this," he grated out, trying to pull away.

"Why?" Hermione asked, watching with disappointment as he distanced himself both mentally and physically. "Draco, what is going on? Why are you pulling away from me?"

He cursed and sat up, rubbing his hands on his thighs as if to gather himself. "Hermione, we can't do this."

"Do what?"

"This! This, whatever it is!" he spat exasperatedly.

"And what is it, exactly?" Hermione snapped, feeling the first twinges of anger and hurt. Did he not want her the way she wanted him? Did he regret what they'd shared? Had he done it simply to help her?

She suddenly felt naïve and humiliated. Of course he didn't want her. He could have any woman he wanted, why would he lower himself to the likes of her? He'd only done what he thought was necessary for the cause...

"I don't know," he admitted lowly, looking so lost. "Every time I'm around you…I can't think. Like now." She could see the corner of his mouth lift slightly, his face miserable. "And we have to keep on task. We can't afford to be distracted. You distract me, everything about you is just…it's easier if we just keep to the plan, nothing more. I need to keep my head about me."

"And I need to know that there is still some good in this world," Hermione argued. "That there are still things worth fighting for. You showed me that. I'm stronger with you around. I don't feel so alone."

He looked at her, his expression unreadable. "I'm here with you, Hermione. Nothing is going to change that. We're in this together, the whole way. I don't want to let you down. That's why we can't do this, I can't lose control-"

"But sometimes you need to, Draco. Why fight it?" She put her hand on his arm and watched him stiffen, his eyes roving away from her.

"It's more complicated than that."

"It doesn't have to be. Draco, I'm not asking anything of you. If you feel for me as I do for you then that's all there is and there doesn't have to be anything else. I need you, Draco. But if you don't feel the same I - I understand, I-"

His lips crashed down upon hers as he pinned her to the bed, his hands all over, his mouth taking hers ruthlessly. She gasped in shock at his sudden change in demeanor, though was in no way going to resist. She gave herself to him, showing him what he meant, giving him everything she had.

"Gods you drive me fucking mad," he growled, tugging her gown up, shoving his hand between her thighs as she tried to give him room on the tiny bed. His fingers drove up into her already soaking channel and she moaned, his other hand coming to cover her mouth. She remembered where they were and that she had to be quiet, but she quickly forgot as he pumped her, setting her to flame. "I need you, I've always needed you. Fuck, I need you now, right now."

She nodded as he still had her mouth covered, preventing her from answering, and tugged at his belt frantically, the two of them working his pants down and off. He whispered words she couldn't hear as he settled between her legs, removing his fingers and replacing them seconds later with himself, filling her, stretching her beyond endurance, the sensation making her groan loudly, all thought of anything other than him completely obliterated. He moved deeply inside her, her body igniting at his intrusion.

Hermione wrapped her legs around him and pulled him closer, digging her face into his strong shoulder as he worked her, his every movement sending waves of heat cascading through her, dragging her up until she she no longer knew who she was. He kept her there, not letting her fall yet, slowing his pace until she was a puddle in his arms, his lips smirking against her neck as she writhed beneath him, begging for release.

Suddenly, he rose up onto his heels and pounded into her, shoving her roughly into oblivion, her silent screams ringing through her head, the pleasure so intense she worried she might simply burst into a million pieces.

But he didn't stop there, bringing her back up quickly before pulling one of her legs over his shoulder to change the angle, to thrust deeper, to take her further. And when he tugged up the other leg to match the first, practically folding her in half, she thought she'd die at the incredible pressure, his hand slapping back over her mouth again as she whimpered, grabbing at him to drag him closer, begging him with her eyes for more because if he stopped, oh gods, if he didn't-

He did. He took her hard and fast, working her until her eyes were rolling back, her nails digging into the mattress for purchase as her vision broke apart, the orgasm ripping through her as powerful as the first.

She couldn't move a muscle when she came back down, her entire body plaint under his assault. He tucked her legs to the side, rolling her until he was lying behind her, pressing back into her, awakening her body once again. He wrapped her in his arms, pulling her close, and she hated the clothing between them, wanting to feel his skin upon hers. But she had no time to worry about it as he thrust into her, driving her body crazy again as she pressed back against him, looking for more, always more. He didn't disappoint, snaking one hand down to her nub, working it in time with his hips which grew more urgent, more demanding.

"Draco," she pled. His teeth came down on the crux of her shoulder sending shivers down her spine at the thought that he was so crazy with need for her he could hardly contain it. He grunted softly as he pumped into her faster, harder, making her cling to him and the bed, her head whipping back as she neared the brink yet again.

"Come with me, love," he grunted. His fingers grabbed her shoulder, digging in with bruising force, but Hermione didn't even notice as her third orgasm tore through her, shattering her as he jerked against her, filling her.

They collapsed together, gasping. Neither of them moved for a time, wallowing in the aftermath of their love making. Hermione wouldn't let thoughts plague their moment and simply savored the feeling of being in his arms.

But life invaded as it tended to do and he had to return to patrol. He left quietly with a soft kiss, removing the _Muffliato_ he'd placed, and Hermione wrapped herself in blankets that smelled of him and sank back into a restful sleep.

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Draco ate breakfast slowly Saturday morning waiting for Hermione to arrive, barely able to register the tittering of his fellow classmates. He'd used the pressure of the upcoming exams to his advantage for his aloof behavior and as his Granger-self had always been incredibly studious, nobody dared question him. It had come to his attention that Hermione tended to become extremely volatile under these kinds of circumstances and most Gryffindors afforded him a wide berth, afraid he might snap. Potter had thankfully explained what it had been like being Leon's friend around O.W.L's and the terror of his fellow students of Leon snapping at any point gave him plenty of time alone.

As soon as Hermione sidled into the hall sparing him the tiniest of glances and taking her seat next to Blaise, he bid Potter and Weasley farewell and headed to the library where he'd spent every spare moment possible, scouring old textbooks until his eyes were practically bleeding, his fingers sore from flipping through so many pages, searching for anything and everything. Hermione had always believed one could find any answer in the written word and right now Draco was banking everything on this sole belief.

Though he hadn't quite taken into consideration exactly how arduous this research thing could be. No wonder Hermione snapped so easily. His brain felt as though it had been wrung dry between the extensive investigation, stress over the fear of not being able to help Hermione, and working harder than ever on his studies to match a Granger's level. He'd never been a bad student and had always tested well, but it was unbelievable how much Hermione took on and the amount of extra work his teachers expected from him, not to mention everyone looking to him to answer first in class, to check their work, to assist them. He could remember all too well the ridicule he'd given Hermione for always shooting her arm into the air before a question had even left a teacher's lips, the way she would bounce excitedly in her seat, ready to prove that she knew the material better than anyone. She'd always been an incredible showoff and it was becoming apparent exactly how much work it took to be that big of a know-it-all. He was having to read ahead in every class and find extra research just to meet the absurd lengths of her essays. He felt ready to drop any minute and only the image of Hermione's trusting gaze kept him going.

He couldn't believe they'd only been here for a little over a week. It had seemed like a lifetime already. Their situation was so unbelievable it was almost comical. Who would have thought sex would have so much impact on the fate of their world? They'd done the dirty deed to protect their secret and then belatedly found out it could be their very downfall. But how could they undo what had already been done? According to Hermione, every Time-Turner had been rendered useless in the Department of Mysteries during their battle in the fifth year, and even if there was one, how would they possibly get their hands on it? Besides, the logistics of going back in time in a world that was not theirs was so unpredictable it was hardly worthy of the thought.

So now he had to find a way to fix it. And when he did, if he did, what then? How was he just supposed to stand aside and let the Dark Lord rape and impregnate her? The thought made his stomach burn in guilt and anger. They could easily get rid of the bastard just as they had theirs (another image he tucked far from his concious), but the torment she would go through just to get it...he couldn't bear the thought.

He had so many questions he wanted to ask Hermione, so many things that would be easier for her to answer. But he'd been watching her and knew she was closer to the edge than he was. It was no wonder why, but he hoped he'd instilled the importance of keeping to their roles in her last night. She'd certainly seemed more relaxed by the time he'd left...

He had to admit, he himself felt so much more centered, so refreshed after their encounter. He'd slept like the dead last night, his mind not bouncing between worry and need. Instead, memories of her body writhing beneath his in ecstasy consumed his thoughts. The entire past week it had only taken one look at her in the halls to make him hard, the sight of her kissing Blaise before class to make him seethe. He couldn't stop imagining her next interlude with his ex-best friend, remembering how battered she'd been from their first round - and they hadn't even had sex. He didn't ask what had occurred; he didn't want to know. He honestly didn't think he could stand it.

He was letting his mind wander again. He heaved a great sigh and pulled the closest tome to him and began to read.

Late Sunday night had him sneaking into the Room of Hidden Things after his patrol, glancing around the familiar domain, his gut twisting at the memory of last year. Pushing back the morbid thoughts, he began his search, not knowing what he was looking for, but he couldn't quell the feeling that his answer did not lie in the Hogwarts library.

When he neared the Vanishing Cabinet, he stilled. Guilt clenched him with icy fingers, remembering what had come through it, the damage it had caused. He was about to turn away when he realized the door was cracked slightly and upon further inspection, the dust was disturbed as if a hand had pulled it open. Curiosity had him tugging it open, his brown furrowing at the sight of a book lying on a shelf inside.

Lifting the obviously ancient text, he noticed a slip of parchement peeking from between the pages. Flipping to the marked pages, the parchment fluttered out, looking very new in sharp contrast to the musty and cracked pages of the book. He stooped to pick it up, nearly dropping it when he read the words written in a shaky hand:

 _L-_

 _Found this in father's library. It's so much worse than we thought. Plan must be expidited. Please help me, tell Moony I'm willing to do anything, please..._

 _V_

Bloody hell. L, V...it had to mean Leon and Valouris...they had been in contact? How had she known about the cabinet? And who the hell was Moony? He looked down at the marked page in the book, squinting in the dim lighting, trying to make out the tiny words.

What he read had him racing through the halls to the owlery, quickly writing a note to Hermione, vaguely considering having her meet him now, but it was nearly two in the morning and he wanted more time to wrap his mind around this new revelation...

Telling her to meet him at nine the next evening, he hurried to his room, sinking onto the bed, staring at the book as if it were a plague, fear roiling in his blood.

.

.

.

Draco paced anxiously waiting for Hermione to arrive. The second she walked through the door was like a punch to the chest. She was so achingly beautiful, that smile she always saved just for him when they passed in the corridors on her face. The words he'd read last night ran through his mind, dread filing him.

All his reservations flew out the window and he strode across the room to take her into his arm, kissing her deeply, possessively, branding her, finding everything and more right there in her. He hardened at her fervent reaction as she practically crawled up him for more and he silently swore that he would do everything in his power to protect her.

Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, her legs around his waist, he carried her to the closest table, setting her upon it. His hands went instinctively to her breasts, stroking them over her clothes, his member jerking as she rubbed against him, purring at his ministrations. It wasn't enough, he needed to feel her, have her skin against his.

They tore at each other's clothes, frenzied in their need. He didn't want to think about what it meant, didn't want to rationalize. All he wanted was to feel her beneath him, to have her wrapped around him, to sink into her and have her erase all the worries of the world.

And so they took, they gave, they felt and touched, all pounding hearts and searching fingertips. When they had finally divested each other of any barrier they simply pressed together, the heat of their skin, their mutual desire doing the work for them as their kisses grew ever more ardent, their caresses more urgent. Draco couldn't believe the desperation he felt around this witch. She drove him beyond logic until it was all he could do not to rip her to pieces and bury himself inside her like an animal.

All lucid thought was driven from his mind as she grabbed him, stroking him, pressing him to her core, her desperation making his mind going white with want. He had to see her face, had to watch her as he took her and there, just like that, watch her lose herself as he slipped inside, the feel of her hot and tight around him making him growl as her eyes closed, her lips parted on a moan. He watched her as he moved inside her, slowly, dragging out each movement, watching her breath hitch as he filled her, her head fall as he ran his hands over her when she leaned back. He saw her elbows buckle slightly when he arched up, finding that sweet spot, saw her skin flush, her nipples harden. Every inch of her was perfection. And she was all his. He saw the way she reacted to Blaise's advances, and yet under his touch she melted, crumbled, begging him for more. No one else would ever make her feel this. And he was determined to prove it.

He grabbed one of her smooth legs, anchoring her tighter so he could plow into her, her cries driving him on and on, stealing the breath from his chest as everything centered down to the single connection between them. His name fell from her lips over and over, a litany as he took her, giving her everything he couldn't in reality. He leaned over her and kissed her lips, her jaw, her neck, felt her shudder, felt her breath on his shoulder, one of her hands at the back of his head, pulling at his hair, her hips rising to meet his. He groaned when she bit down on his shoulder and he pressed on harder, deeper, felt her tense beneath him, knew she was balancing on the edge. He sent her careening over, her screams filling the room as she pulsated around his member, the incredible sensation more than he could stand. He followed her, allowed the dam to burst and he watched the world explode around him while she clung on, bringing him back to earth.

When the room settled he pressed her back and collapsed against her chest, burying his face between her breasts, nuzzling in and making her giggle. He closed his eyes in momentary bliss as she played with his hair, the caresses on his overly sensitive scalp sending him into a stupor.

He turned his face up to hers after a while and watched her smile lazily before she bent down to kiss his forehead. And even though his legs were aching from their prolonged stance, it was the most serene he'd felt in a long time. The only times he could remember even feeling near to this had all been with Hermione. That thought unnerved him enough that he pushed away from her, but she looked so sated and happy that he couldn't bring himself to spoil her good mood, so he leaned down and kissed her softly.

"This wasn't exactly what I brought you here to do," he grinned.

"Oh?" she simpered saucily. "And I'm to believe you had no thoughts of ravishing me at all?"

"Well…"

She laughed and he joined her before finding his robes and digging out his wand to clean their mess before tossing Hermione her clothes. He snuck one last look at her luscious body before she was covered and dragged on his own clothes before he tossed her on the floor to have another go at her.

Smoothing her mussed hair Hermione turned to him. "So if you didn't bring me here to slake your lust, what did you bring me here for? We can't do anything with the potion for another week and a half."

His shoulders tensed at the harsh reminder of why he'd summoned her.

"It's not the potion. Maybe you should sit down," Draco murmured. He hated having to bring the issue up when she looked so calm, but they needed to focus. They were here to work.

Sighing, he went to his bag and pulled out the old and dusty book, nodding to Hermione to take a seat when she continued to stand there staring at him curiously. She sank down and he could tell by her vacant expression that she was preparing herself.

"I found this last night and I have a feeling it may have something to do with our situation," Draco said, opening Non Innoxia Tenebris to its marked page and laying it in her lap. He purposely left out the note which had led him to this discovery. He wasn't sure why, but he needed to figure out who Moony before burdening her further.

She was silent for several minutes while Draco paced, glancing to where she sat reading, studying the changes in her features. Finally, she heaved a broken sigh and looked up, her face wan.

"It would certainly make sense," she relented, her voice small. "But where in the world did you find this? It couldn't have been in the Restricted Section." She flipped through the pages of the gruesome spells and potions wicked wizards had created hundreds of years ago.

"Room of Requirement," Draco answered. "Spent plenty of time in there last year, thought I'd give it a try. When I found this...it seems more plausible than the Dark Lord's sudden urge for children. Didn't you find it odd that the Dark Lord has never had any familial connection and yet now he suddenly wants a child? He doesn't exactly seem the parental type."

"You're right and I've thought the same thing," Hermione agreed. "According to Dumbledore he prides himself on standing alone. His minions are only necessary; he knows he cannot rule alone. Harry's greatest weapon over him, his only one, really, is his ability to love, something Tom always sneered at. Voldemort certainly wouldn't want the nuisance of a child to weigh him down. So why impregnate Valouris?"

"Which is what caught my attention about this," Draco said, drawing up a chair next to her. "What I understood is that this spell will essentially allow a male to use a female's womb to provide a sort of capsule for their power. Sort of like a medieval Horcrux, I guess. But I don't exactly understand how it works."

"Because it's not a Horcrux at all," Hermione debated. "The principle is similar: taking a piece of yourself and putting it into something else for safe-keeping in case something happens to your body. But a Horcrux is an object containing a piece of your soul. He wants to bottle his power, his magical power…it's like he can copy/paste it…this is unlike anything I have ever seen before…"

"Er, 'copy paste?'" Draco asked, confused at her phrasing. "I didn't see anything about paste…"

"No, no, no, it's a Muggle saying," she explained distractedly and he could practically hear her brain whirling. "It means he wants to make a replica of his power, to duplicate it. With a Horcrux you are ripping your soul into pieces…with this he can bottle his entire power into something else and yet keep it the same within himself. The trouble is…only a wizard can contain the power of a wizard. You can't, say, put your powers into a jewelry box; it runs through your blood, your very essence. So he would need a human-like form to contain it, but not something sentient, not something with its own will. This thing they call an _Arcavi,_ it's…it, well it's like an underdeveloped human. It's sick, twisted…"

She pressed a hand to her stomach, her face going pale as her eyes whipped back and forth across the pages, disgust marring her features. "It wouldn't have any mental functioning outside of its magic, it would be like a mannequin, only responding to the instruction of the creator. His 'child' would essentially be an incredibly powerful, emotionless drone. And of course he would want to use the purest blood he could find…what better than a Malfoy?"

When she looked up at him he could see the horror in her eyes. "Gods, Draco…you don't think - he can't be thinking of making this in the real world? In our world?"

Draco didn't see why he wouldn't want to try. A brainless version of himself he could wield by command? Draco could only imagine what the Dark Lord could do with that sort of omnipotence. Two Dark Lords, one invincible unless they killed Nagini...

"I suppose the only question is who," Draco finally said.

"Indeed. Only one possible problem with that, however…"

"Which is?"

"How many of-age Pureblooded virgins do you know?" Hermione questioned skeptically.

Draco snorted. Wracking his brain though he tried, he couldn't think of a single one, even Bulstrode had gotten Goyle to seal the deal. "Well, we might be safe for a while," he chortled darkly, though he felt no humor. "He'll find one though, if there is one. Wait, why does the girl have to be an of-age virgin?"

"Well, she has to be of-age because there needs to be consent for the magic to work. Some sort of mutual agreement or bond for the transfer of power," Hermione explained, looking back at the book. "And, well…I am guessing Valouris doesn't quite understand the entire process..."

"What do you mean?" Draco didn't like the dead sound of Hermione's voice.

"What else?" she asked sardonically, looking up at him. "Virgin sacrifice."

Draco gaped at her. "You have got to be kidding me."

"You didn't finish reading this, did you?" she asked offhandedly.

"No, I could hardly get through the first page," Draco admitted. The Old-English writing style was not one of his strong points.

"I don't blame you. This whole idea makes me ill," Hermione said, obviously presuming he'd stopped reading because of the offensive material rather than the complexity of it. And he wasn't going to correct her. "What kind of demented person could do this? I mean, obviously _him_ …but who could even think up something as repulsive as this? What in the world would they need it for?"

He couldn't fail to notice her hand was still on her stomach and he knew she was thinking of what had resided there for a brief twenty-four hours. They hadn't spoken about the incident but he could only imagine the turmoil she was going through. He wished he could say something to let her know that she wasn't the only one who thought of what might have been, but there was too much to worry about in the here and now to dwell on the past. For one thing, if Valouris was supposed to be a virgin sacrifice…

"So if he was just going to kill Valouris off, why would he betroth her to Blaise?" he asked, feeling as though he were trying to untangle a particularly stubborn knot that had no foreseeable end.

"Well, I can't imagine your parents would have been thrilled at this idea, though I highly doubt they have any idea Valouris will be killed in the process. It was likely a bartering tool. An important connection between those lines, for monetary purposes, I can only imagine, and he could use their daughter. Not that he had to ask, but he probably saw the advantages to such a match as well as their cooperation, a ploy for them to focus on while Valouris slowly grows weaker. He plants his power in her and by the time they get married she'll be constructing the Arcavi. She'll be dead before she can decorate her little cottage in the country." Hermione's monotonous explanation shook Draco to the core.

"But why kill the woman who, well, made the thing?" Draco asked, hoping she would say something ridiculous that he could find a way around. Because there was no fucking way she was dying on his watch. He wouldn't even consider the idea.

"The process alone will kill her. A person cannot contain that much power, we aren't made for it. Her body would not be equipped to deal with something like that growing inside her; it would suck her dry, for lack of a better term. This isn't a normal baby we're talking about, but raw power sheathed inside the shell of a human. I can't imagine she'd make it more than a few weeks…"

"That's not going to happen," Draco snapped, seeing the darkness growing behind her eyes, knowing she was imagining the worst. "We'll find a way out of this. He is not going to plant that fucking thing inside you."

"And how do you suppose we get out of it?" she exhaled, her voice now edging on hysteria.

"I don't know yet, but we will, we'll figure it out-"

"Draco, be realistic here!" she cried. "We have less than two weeks until the fifth! How do you suppose we figure out a plan that won't blow our cover that will get me out of this in that amount of time?"

"Look, we've gotten out of tough situations before," Draco soothed. "We'll get out of this one. If anything, we'll run. We'll take the potion and hide out until we can get back. It's the same thing as what's happening on our side, isn't it? I've gone to ground, you're mysteriously missing. Our counterparts will do the same. We'll just act the part until next Friday and then we'll run."

"We can't," she lamented, shaking her head. "What about the Dark Mark? Or have you forgotten why we're here?"

"Shit!" he groaned, scrubbing his face in frustration.

"We'll just have to go through with it," she said determinedly. "I'll get the Mark and-" she swallowed hard. "-the Arcavi and we'll go home and get all of this done. According to the book the stronger the will of the woman, the stronger her magical core, the longer she can survive while carrying it. And I'm damn well not going to die until we finish Voldemort off once and for all."

"You're not going to die at all!" Draco roared, grabbing her out of the chair and pulling her up to his face, the book falling to the floor. "Dammit Hermione, you are not going to die for that bastard! I won't let you! You are not going through with this! I will knock you out and force you into hiding if I have to! This isn't what we came here to do!"

"Draco, I have to get that Mark! How else will we complete the rest of this mission?" Hermione rasped, her voice growing weak at the prospect of her imminent death.

"I will fucking take it like I should have all along," he demanded, his chest tight. "I never should have fucking dragged you into this. If I hadn't been so selfish-"

"Draco, you know it's more than that!"

"It is _now!"_ he spat angrily. "We could have thought up some other plan, but I didn't care, all I cared about was that it wouldn't be me. But not anymore. You are not going to take the fall for me, not this time."

He watched her eyes well up and she leaned up and kissed him, her lips warm and comforting. Draco slid his hands up her arms to cradle her face, to hold her there for just a moment more.

"I want to do this," she whispered, her lips still against his, her hands on his chest. "I need to, Draco. Please, understand that. This is my mission. You're just along for the ride. I don't care if you think you were pawning this off on me. I took this task because I needed to. I need to know that I am worth more than the bookworm I've made myself out to be. This fight is my fight, the fight for my kind. How could I possibly support this war and not take part? And not just take part, but lead. If you care for me at all you will stop fighting me about this and help me live long enough to get his done."

Draco felt as though she were literally ripping him in two. How could he stand aside and let her do this, watch her die for the Dark Lord's advancement? On the other hand, he understood her need to do this - it was the same as his. It wasn't about proving to other people, but to themselves. And he knew he couldn't live with taking that from her.

So what did he do now? The mission was the most important thing, it had to be. So they would complete their mission. She would get the Mark, even if he hated himself for the rest of his life for letting her do this for him, but there was no way in Hades he was letting her be used as a retainer for the Dark Lord's sick powers. He would stop it at any costs.

However, there was no reason she had to know that...

"Alright," he murmured. "We'll do this. But we do it my way, no exceptions. Deal?"

She nodded. "Deal. I trust you."

 _You shouldn't,_ he thought to himself. He rubbed her cheek lightly with his thumb, noting the dark circles under her eyes. "You should get back. Take the Sleeping Draught tonight."

"I will," she promised. Then she wrapped her arms around his torso and hugged him, a gesture so foreign he hardly knew how to react. Sure, she'd hurtled into his arms out of fear or need, but never like this when there was no immediate danger. So he held her back, blinking in confusion when she kissed his cheek and departed, wishing him sweet dreams. He wasn't even sure he'd replied with actual words, his brain not functioning at proper capacity.

Swiping his bag off the table Draco made his way to the Gryffindor common room, Weasley hailing him over as soon as he entered. Settling himself on the couch next to the redheaded imbecile, he dug out his DADA homework and began plotting how to save Hermione.

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A/N: Apologies for the delay, hope you enjoyed this next twist!

AuraAuthor: Yes, I hated doing it as well, but necessary evils and all. And these two sure have a way of getting into sticky situations, don't they? What do you think about the Arcavi?

CatwinWo: I love shocking people! Glad to have caught you off guard. How about this next twist? See that coming? ;)

Perditrix: Screwed up by screwing, interesting concept, eh? :P And now even MORE issues! Oh, dear!

LissaDream: No worries! Glad to have you caught up! Can't wait to see what you think about this situation...

BoredRavenclaw620: "Hymenus reparo!" OMG I was in tears! You're hilarious! Unfortunately, not going to be quite that easy...

XOXO

RynStar15


	12. Inventa in Stupro

Draco forced himself to take a Sleeping Draught that night, knowing if he didn't he would be up all hours and unable to concentrate in class the next day. It didn't seem to matter, however, because he spent his class time worrying about how he was going to get Hermione out of this impossible situation instead.

Weasley had started getting on his case about acting so strange and Potter kept a stony silence about this issue causing the ginger to go on a tirade and Draco to wonder what in the world Hermione saw in him. He was also getting sick of Potions class because Weasley always wanted to pair up with him and he would have to spend the entire period making sure he didn't mess everything up while simultaneously keeping an eye on Hermione.

However, he was finding he rather liked the Weaslette. She had a sharp tongue and always had something to say when Weasley was acting up. Potter kept himself removed from their quarrels and kept a hawk-like watch on Draco at all times causing Weasley to question him as well.

He tried to keep up appearances, but he was so absorbed in his task he had to constantly remind himself that acting the part was essential to their success as well. He was having no luck finding out who "Moony" was though he poured over every book he could find, scoured the Room of Hidden Things, and tore apart this private dorm once more. Other than the single missive, he could find no evidence whatsoever that Leon and Valouris had been in contact with someone with the code name of "Moony." He couldn't shake the feeling that whoever it was could be the key to saving Hermione.

Though he was constantly on the lookout, Draco didn't get time to see Hermione other than at mealtimes and class for the rest of the week, their patrol schedules and workload making it difficult to get away. He searched for her in the hallways between classes and waited for the little smile she always gave him while her friends would scowl or make snide remarks. He didn't know how she kept her cool about this; it was damn hard not to hex everyone in sight when something like that would happen, especially when it came to his attention that he used to be one of the people patronizing the Muggle-borns and he sensed this was some sort of penance.

As the week dragged on, Draco was finding himself taking more risks to catch her eye during class or to brush up against her when they passed in corridors. She always kept her composure, but noticed she would sneak into the store cupboard during Potions while he was in there to touch his hand when she reached for something or catch his eye across the Great Hall during dinner. The danger of the situation thrilled him and spurred him on to take more chances even though he told himself it was stupid. Everything was riding on this mission. They shouldn't be so careless…

He was thinking exactly this Friday night during patrol when she burst into the third floor corridor, panting.

"There you are!" she gasped, grabbing at a stitch on her side while he tried to slow his heart rate and lowered his wand. "I've been looking all over for you!"

"Why, what's wrong?" he asked anxiously, looking around them to be sure they weren't overheard. For extra precaution he dragged her behind a painting of Emeric the Evil to a lesser known shortcut hall so they wouldn't be overheard.

"I need you to put me in detention," she panted, her face white in the dim corridor.

"Wait, what?"

"Right now! Just take me to Slughorn or Filch, tell them you found me out of bed wandering the halls."

"Why?" he questioned, confused at her strange request.

"Blaise, I'm supposed to be meeting him in the Room of Requirement right now and I just can't. Please, I can't do it again," she begged, her eyes pleading. "I thought I could but I can't, I'm sorry-"

"It's alright," he assured her, secretly pleased she was so worked up about the idea of being with Blaise that she was making up ways not to be. "We'll go turn you in, save you for tonight. But I don't know how you're going to get by again."

"I'll think of something else," she said determinedly, her hands twisting in distress. "I just don't think I can handle it a second time."

The possessive side of Draco screamed at her never to let that rat bastard touch him again, but he swallowed his emotions, placing a placating hand on her tense shoulder. "We'll take care of it. Next time I'll put him in detention, alright?"

She smiled in relief. "Alright."

And though he knew he shouldn't, that they were way too conspicuous here, he leaned down and kissed her, just to show that he could, that she wanted him and couldn't even stand the thought of Blaise. He groaned when she wrapped her arms around his neck and stood on tiptoe to kiss him harder. All warning bells dulled as he pressed her hungrily against the wall, attacking her lips, suddenly hard as stone. He undulated against her core to show her how she affected him and grinned when she gasped. He loved that he could make her do that, make her need him so desperately that she grabbed at him as if he might fly away at any moment, though he had no intention of going anywhere.

Daring the fates, he slipped his hand into her robes to cup her luscious backside, to run his hand down her smooth thigh and trail his fingertips up the inside making her shudder as he kissed her jaw. Her breath hitched as he grazed over her panties which were already soaking wet. He growled and tore the damnable material off, stuffing in into his pocket so he could slip his fingers inside her, feel her clench around him, feel her buck against his hand. She whimpered softly as her worked her slowly; playing with her while she squirmed. She was so tight and hot he could barely contain himself, rocking his straining erection against her hip.

And then her hand was working his belt, yanking down the zipper, shoving down his pants, stroking him and sending all the blood in his body to that one engorged member. He pressed harder against her and worked her faster, noticing that she matched his pace. She wanted to play, did she?

Draco knelt before her, taking a moment to smirk up at her bewildered face before hooking one of her supple legs over his shoulder and diving into her cunt, licking and sucking, wallowing in the taste of her, wishing he could stay right there for the rest of his life. Her fingers dug into his hair, her hips jerking harshly against his mouth as she moaned and whimpered. He shoved two fingers roughly back into her and worked them fast, sucking her hood until she came, her muffled screams telling him she'd had to cover her mouth. He caught her waist with his free hand as her knees buckled, her body straining tightly towards him while he worked her through her orgasm.

As she settled slightly, he rose and ripped his pants down, not caring that they were in the wide open, needing to be inside her.

"Gods, we're going to be caught," Hermione breathed even as her hands shoved up his shirt to feel his chest.

"Want me to stop?" he murmured, his fingers working her clit until she gasped.

"Get inside me, hurry," she demanded and he smirked. Draco lifted her and she wrapped around him, reaching her hand down to guide him into place, moaning as he plowed in. She reached up one hand and grasped the candelabra above her head, anchoring herself so he could pound her. The danger of the situation demanded he not tarry and as wound as he was he didn't mind fucking her as hard and fast as he could, watching her go wild under his assault. He had to cover her mouth again when she keened loudly but it only made him hotter knowing she couldn't contain it. His other hand squeezed her bum, holding her still as he pumped into her, driving as deep as he could, her heat driving him towards madness.

"Oh fuck, love, I'm going to come," Draco growled against her hot neck, quickening his thrusts. She nodded behind his hand and he whipped his hips, angling himself, and watched her eyes roll back, her body bow, felt her fingers grasp his neck as she came, her pulsations sending him tumbling with her.

Draco groaned loudly, jerking into her as he spilled himself until he was panting, slumped against her. Hermione lowered one of her legs to help hold them up which was good because his own felt like jelly, his entire body throbbing in the aftermath. He kissed her neck, licked the sweat gathering at her hairline, her musky scent so incredibly intoxicating. Her hand dropped slowly from the candelabra to smooth his damp hair off his burning forehead and he cursed every piece of clothing on his overheated body.

"Detention," he grunted hoarsely. "You're not supposed to seduce the Head Boy on patrol."

"I suppose you'll have to teach me a lesson then, won't you?" Hermione quipped and Draco hissed when she sucked his earlobe into her mouth then growled as she continued kissing down his neck, rocking against him, stirring his senses once more.

"Stop doing that!" he groaned, feeling himself stiffen inside her, cursing his virility for the first time in his life. He pulled back to look down at her deviant gaze. "You're the goddamned devil, you know that, right?"

She giggled. "Can't say that's one I've heard before."

He cursed and snatched her wandering hands, pinning them to her sides and stepping back, sliding out of her and shaking his head with a smirk. "Well, it seems the Malfoy charm is starting to rub off on you. Now let's get you to Slughorn before someone catches me with my pants down, here." She grinned at him and he couldn't believe he was actually telling her to stop. He must be a masochist.

They straightened themselves up and he gave her one quick, searing kiss before taking her elbow and leading her to Slughorn's office.

The rotund professor answered hurriedly, wrapping the ties of his robe around his potbelly, his eyes bleary.

"Mr. Granger, Miss Malfoy, to what do I owe this very late call?" he asked, peeking through the crack in the door.

"Sorry to wake you, sir," Draco simpered while Hermione scowled next to him. "But I caught Malfoy here wandering the halls after hours."

"Oho?" Slughorn said, rounding on Hermione. "Is this true, Miss Malfoy?"

"No, I just let him frog-march me here for shits and giggles," she drawled and Draco fought to bite back his laughter as Slughorn ballooned.

"Language, Miss Malfoy!" he boasted, shaking a pudgy finger in her face. "Well, step on into my office. I'll take it from here, Mr. Granger. Thank you."

"My pleasure, sir," he replied, smirking at Hermione who gave him a quick wink before the door closed behind them.

Draco finished his patrol, taking no small amount of pleasure when he watched Blaise stomping back towards the dungeons, fuming. He worried that Hermione might receive the brunt of his anger but there was nothing more he could do tonight.

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The next day was something of an implement of torture as it turned out to be the final Hogsmead weekend and Potter and Weasley dragged him down to the village with them. They spent several monotonous hours digging through revolting bins of joke candy and trick wands and he was even forced to endure an afternoon with the giant oaf over Butterbeers in the Three Broomsticks. The only entertaining part of the afternoon came from watching Weasley slam face-first into his drink when Hagrid patted his back roughly. This seemed a normal occurrence, however, as he simply smiled and wiped himself off.

Draco's interest peaked when Potter dragged Hagrid off for a "walk" with a glance at Malfoy. Draco wanted to follow, but Weasley pulled him instead to follow Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil as they wound their way back toward the castle. He kept his eyes on the two figures disappearing towards Hagrid's cabin and watched as they slipped inside.

"Wonder what Harry needed to talk to Hagrid about in private?" Draco wondered out loud, hoping Ron might give him some kind of clue. But he was disappointed.

"Huh?" was Weasley's witty response and Draco just shook his head, knowing it was useless.

He only caught a couple glimpses of Hermione over meals for the rest of the weekend as he spent his time back in the library, catching up on homework and pouring over more dark books, trying to find a way out of Hermione's situation. At this point he was simply going to storm Malfoy Manor and drag her out before it was too late. The only problem with this was the fact that he was now a Muggleborn and could no longer step foot onto the grounds without a Death Eater present to disable the alarms. He supposed he could Imperius one, but he didn't know how to work the alarms, having never been trusted to. And in the event that he could get the random wizard to let him onto the grounds there was no way the Dark Lord wouldn't realize one of his trademark weapons was being used on one of his own followers. What he needed was someone on the inside, someone like what Hermione was working on becoming. Someone like Snape…

Draco shook the image of his dead godfather out of his head and set back to the monstrous essay Professor Sprout had set them on the proper care and use of the Venomous Tentacula. He'd chosen to work on it in the quiet library as opposed to the common room as Weasley kept hounding him for answers. It was nearly midnight on Sunday, the library deserted but for him, Madam Pince being kind enough to let him stay. She was much different to his Granger-self than the snippety vulture he remembered her as.

Hands came to his shoulders and he jumped before they massaged the tension there and a waft of what he now recognized as Valouris' shampoo overtook his senses. He sighed and leaned back against Hermione's ministrations, closing his eyes.

"How are you holding up?" she murmured, her thumbs working a knot in his neck. He let his head drop on a groan. He could remember Pansy's bony fingers attacking his shoulders, but he'd never actually enjoyed the sensation of a genuine massage before. Hermione's hands were downright blissful.

"I don't know how you do it," he admitted, wearily. "Being Head Girl, taking all these classes, practically carrying Potter and Weasley through their own. And all the extra work and practice tests on top of all the preparation we did in the last months…it's a wonder you don't drop from the stress."

"I enjoy the work," she said after a moment of thought, her fingers working up into his hairline. "Learning is a gift. And I'm honored to wear the title of Head Girl. As for Ron and Harry…they're my best friends. They're smart when they apply themselves. They have a lot to deal with; sometimes they just need a little extra motivation."

He snorted. "I swear to Merlin if Weasley asks me to look over another one of his essays I'm going to hit him with that Bat-Bogey Hex Weaslette got me with in the fifth year."

He smiled at the tinkle of her laughter. "I'd forgotten about that! Of course Harry and I were a bit preoccupied watching Umbridge get carried away by an angry mob of centaurs."

Draco chuckled as an image of the curly haired, pink-sweatered woman being carted off by her ankles as centaurs poked her plump belly with spears. "I would have died to see that!"

"Excuse me?" Hermione rounded him to lean a hip on the table, her arms crossed, a look of sarcastic surprise upon her face. "Dost mine ears deceive me? Mr. Inquisitorial Squad?"

"Oh, come off it," he smirked, hooking his hands behind his head and leaning back. "You know I only joined that so I could finally get you three with something. And guess who won?"

"Mmm, I seem to remember someone else coming off on top that night," Hermione purred, leaning over until she was straddling him, her arms on the back of his chair. "From what I hear, Marietta still has to use a whole lot of concealer and a few choice people ended up in Azkaban."

"Oh, so you want to play it that way?" he muttered, his hands coming to her hips, pulling her down into his lap, his lips finding that spot beneath her ear that always made her shiver. "Who spent the next several days in the hospital wing?"

She shoved him back and sucked a pulse point on his neck making him hiss before her hot breath met his ear. "At least I didn't end up there from a ninety pound fourteen-year-old."

"That's it," he growled, grabbing her hair and tugging her head back so he could ravish her lips, swallowing her moan. Her arms wrapped around him and he dove into her, suddenly rock hard. He couldn't believe how much he wanted this witch. He was completely insatiable when it came to her, something he'd never felt before with another girl.

Hermione ground into him and he cursed her uncanny learning ability. She was going to be the end of him as he knew it.

She dragged his sweater up and off, her fingers working deftly at his tie before flying down the buttons of his shirt, shoving it off his arms where it hung trapped to the back of the chair. He whipped her own sweater off and grabbed the top of her shirt in each hand and simply ripped it, buttons cascading around the room as she gasped, her bosom rising wantonly above the cups of her bra. His fingers found the clasp in the back and flipped it open, tugging the offending material away to reveal her, flushed in the dim light. His hands devoured her flesh as she dragged his lips back to hers. She explored his chest, pressing against him so that he knew she enjoyed what she found.

Then her hands were on his belt and he helped her push his pants down his legs and his eyes widened in surprise as she knelt before him, a saucy grin on her face. His breath hitched in his throat, his mouth going completely dry as her small hands tickled the sensitive skin of his inner thighs, her eyes on his manhood, taking him in. And when those fingers played over the length of him he had to grab the sides of his chair for support. Then she leaned forward to kiss the tip and he exhaled, cursing harshly. His nails dug into the wood as heat engulfed him, her lips surrounding his engorged head. _Fuck,_ what was she doing? Where had she learned this exquisite torture?

Her tongue traveled the length of him only to swirl over his tip once more making him groan loudly, his mind going white. He had to fight to keep his hands where they were so as not to drag her down his dick until she choked and instead allowed her to explore him, kissing and sucking, taking him deeper and deeper into that hot cavern until he was grunting with the exertion of keeping himself in check.

 _"Fuck,_ Hermione, just like that," he groaned as she suckled him with one hand pumping to the rhythm of her divine mouth. His entire body felt on the edge of destruction, the intensity of pleasure overwhelming. He pulled her back seconds before the damage was done and dragged her up to take her mouth with bruising need. She was dripping when she straddled him and rubbed against the length of him, her silky smoothness driving him even closer to the edge.

He looked at her incredulously. "You're going to fucking kill me."

She smirked proudly, kissing him hotly once more. "What a lovely way to go, don't you think?"

With a curse he lifted her hips, positioned himself, and slammed into her so hard she screamed. He worried for a moment that he'd hurt her but when she began whipping her hips against his in a frenzy all thought was wiped from his mind, replaced only by desire. He bucked up into her, holding her still so that he could work her hard and fast, sending her lurching over the edge, growling at the image of her face twisting in pleasure, his name falling from her lips, her core clenching around him. She slumped against him, panting, but he continued to work her, dragging her back up before she could catch her breath, feeling her hips circle, his eyes rolling in delight at her new skill.

Unable to take it any longer he lifted Hermione off him and whipped her around, bending her over the table and ramming into her until she was screaming, her nails scrambling to find purchase on the wood. He grunted with each harsh thrust, lifting one of her knees and hooking it onto the edge of the table to sink deeper, feeling her shudder at the intrusion, her whimpers and cries ringing around the room, snapping through his overly sensitized body. She begged him, her cheek pressed against the table, her eyes screwed shut in bliss, her body tensing as she hit the edge, bowing as he shoved her over making him groan at the image.

His orgasm hit him like a brick wall and he roared as he spilled into her, his fingers gripping her hips so hard he knew she'd bruise. His thrusts slowed and he shuddered, feeling the residual spasms of her cunt around him, Hermione panting harshly beneath him. His body throbbed in ecstasy as he drifted slowly down, his vision a swirl of colors. He dropped his sweaty forehead onto her back and smoothed his hands down her arms to twine their fingers as they caught their breath.

He was just about to ask Hermione if she was alright when a voice beckoned from the doorway and he jerked up as if he'd just been doused with ice water.

"-thought you'd still be up here," Weasley said, his eyes on a long roll of parchment as he shoved through the library door. "Do you get this part about the nerve damage from Tentacula venom? I-"

He froze, his eyes wide as saucers as he looked up and took in the scene before him. Draco swore and Hermione stiffened, her body suddenly as cold as his. Weasley sputtered incoherently for several moments before finding his voice.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're playing at?" Weasley spat, enraged. _"Malfoy?_ What the _fuck,_ Leon!"

When he whipped out his wand Draco dove for his as Hermione attempted to cover herself.

"Ron, it's not what you think-" she squeaked, grabbing for her shirt as Draco aimed his own wand at Weasley's chest, unabashed at his nakedness.

"Shut your fucking mouth, Death Eater!" Ron screamed, sparks flying from the tip of his wand, his essay falling to the floor, forgotten, as Hermione dove beneath the table to cover herself.

"Watch yourself, Weasley," Draco snarled menacingly. "We both know I can take you in a duel."

"It's no wonder when you're training with You-Know-Who!" he rambled wildly. "I can't _believe_ you would join their side!"

"You don't know what you're talking about," Draco said darkly. "Now just calm the fuck down before you do something you regret."

"What, like killing a traitor?" he huffed indignantly, raising his shaking hand higher. "I doubt it!"

"Ron, put your wand down, please!" Hermione cried, clutching her shirt over her vital parts. "You're not going to kill anyone-"

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" Ron spat angrily, his blue eyes blazing with betrayal. "You don't know me! I will fucking kill you without a thought if you make a single move-"

"Ron-"

"Stop calling me that!"

"I'm sorry," Hermione soothed, putting one hand up as if to show her cooperation. "But if you would just listen to us, we can explain-"

"Explain what? That you're fucking this traitor for information? Well you'll be hard pressed to deliver anything else to that _master_ of yours! _Obli-!"_

 _"Expelliarmus!"_ Draco screamed, sending Weasley flying backward, his wand arching straight into Draco's outstretched hand. Hermione shrieked and made to run to Ron's side but Draco held her back. _"Petrificus Totalis!"_

"Draco, no!" she cried, grabbing at his arm as Weasley's limbs snapped together and he lay flat as a board.

"Get dressed," Draco snapped and she hastened to do so at his severe tone. He dragged on his own clothes and handed Hermione her wand, her entire body trembling. She ran to Weasley's side the moment she was decent and knelt down.

"Oh, Ron, I'm so sorry!" she moaned, looking as though she were barely restraining herself from touching him. "But you have to listen to us, this isn't what you think, I swear!"

"Hermione, go get Potter," Draco said, watching terror cross her face as she realized they were using their real names and not their cover-ups. "He knows. I think it will be easier on all of us if he's here."

"Harry knows?" Hermione cried, bewildered. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to worry you," he explained, only giving her half the reason. To be honest he had just been apprehensive that she might turn to Potter for support if she knew he knew and Draco didn't want to risk someone seeing the two of them corresponding as they were already risking so much already. Hence the situation they currently found themselves in. "He's been surprisingly understanding about everything."

She glared at him angrily for a moment before standing, glancing nervously at Weasley who was still lying stiffly on the floor, his eyes practically bugling from his skull, and up at Draco who still had his wand trained on the immobile rodent. He rolled his eyes.

"I won't torture him or anything," he assured her scathingly. Although the urge to do so was overwhelming... "Password is 'Dumbledore's Army.'"

With one last look she hurried from the room and the silence pressed in around the teens as the minutes dragged until Hermione slipped through the doorway, Potter looking confused behind her. As soon as his eyes fell on the scene before him he whipped out his own wand, making Hermione step in front of him.

"No, Harry, Draco didn't hurt him, I swear!" she said, holding Potter back as he tried to advance on them. "Ron tried to erase my memory and Draco had to restrain him. That's all, I promise. Like I said, we just need your help to convince him we aren't here to hurt anyone. Please, help us."

His jaw was tight as he looked down at Hermione, trying to decide whether to trust her or not. Slowly, he lowered his wand and gave a curt nod and Draco removed the Full-Body Bind from Weasley who scrambled to his feet.

"Harry, you can't trust them!" Ron screeched, his face red with fury. "Leon's a traitor! I saw him fucking Malfoy!"

Potted looked taken aback at this information as Hermione flushed in embarrassment. Surprisingly, he said nothing and simply neared Weasley as one might a frightened animal.

"Ron, that's not Leon," Potter explained lamely. Weasley's face dropped in confusion, looking over at Draco and then back to Potter as if he were afraid Scarhead was going around the bend.

"Of course it is. Harry, are you feeling alright?" he asked, looking concerned.

"I'm fine Ron. Listen to me, because I'm just as confused as you are. This is not Leon Granger and Valouris Malfoy. They're, well, they're actually the exact opposites. Right?" he asked, looking to Draco for confirmation, who nodded.

"Harry, what are you getting at?" Ron asked, looking nervous.

"Leon and Valouris aren't from, well, our world. See, Leon is actually a Malfoy and Valouris is a Granger."

Weasley was looking at all of them as if they were all mad. "Harry, mate, you're not thinking straight. We need to go to McGonagall, she'll tell you-"

"I'm not going barmy!" Potter bellowed. "Listen to me, Ron! I saw it on the Marauder's Map! They're telling the truth! This," he pointed to Draco. "Is Draco Malfoy in the real world. And _this,"_ he pointed at Hermione who was twisting her wand in her hands anxiously. "Is Hermione Granger, our best friend. Right?"

She nodded, looking close to tears. "Ron, please, I know this is hard to understand, but we're only here like this for a short time. This whole situation was caused by a spell, I can show you if you like-"

"You're all mad!" Weasley screamed, backing away from them hesitantly.

"Ron, just take a look at this," Potter beseeched, dragging the same ratty bit of parchment from his pocket as Draco had seen him consult before. _"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good!"_

Weasley shied away from Potter as he thrust the parchment into his hands, but looked down at it reluctantly, his jaw dropping.

"You - you're," Weasley sputtered stupidly, pointing at Draco and then Hermione. "And you're - but you can't...this is impossible!"

"I know it seems that way, but we're under the effects of a spell," Potter explained as Weasley continued to gape at the parchment then up at them. "We only see them as Valouris and Leon. Everything we think is real is all a result of the potion they made. It's all a part of a plan we are all in on to help us kill Voldemort."

"Don't say his name," Weasley said weakly and Draco was secretly with him. He hated they way Potter and Hermione just tossed the name around like it was nothing.

"Oh, Ron!" Hermione sighed exasperatedly.

He looked at her shakily. "Leon says that…"

"That's because I _am_ who you think Leon is," she explained softly. "Look, let's just all sit down and Draco and I will explain everything."

It took a few minutes but they finally coerced Weasley into joining them at a table while Hermione locked the doors and together the three of them explained the entire complicated situation to a dumbfounded Wealsey. By the time they had finished it looked as though they had simply spent the last hour smashing him over the head with a Beater's bat.

"Do, er, Lupin or, or Mad-Eye or anyone know?" he asked after several moments of silence while he digested all the new information.

"No, not in this world," Draco said forcefully making Weasley look up at him. "And that is the way it had to stay. No one else can know. You two weren't even supposed to."

"Then maybe you shouldn't be shagging in the library!" Ron snapped scathingly.

"You're right, you're absolutely right," Hermione conceded hastily, looking mortified. "We made a mistake and it was a stupid and risky thing to do. But Ron, please, you can't tell anyone. We'll only be here a little while longer and everything will go back to normal and you will never know any of this happened."

"So what will it matter if I do tell?" Ron asked as if testing them. "They'll never remember, according to you."

"No, but it could also prevent us from doing what we need to do," Draco answered menacingly. "And this mission is everything. So keep your fat mouth shut for a week and a half and let us do our job."

"Draco-" Hermione reprimanded, but he ignored her.

"I'm serious, Weasley," he continued, his knuckles white on his wand, drawing Weasley's eyes to the threat. "If I have any suspicion that you are going to fuck this up for us I will erase your memory now and keep you locked up until this whole thing is over."

"Draco, really!" Hermione snapped. "This isn't helping anything! He's not going to tell, are you Ron?...Ron?"

Weasley glared at the lot of them.

"Ron, mate, this is really important," Harry said. "You know what this could mean for our side."

"How do you know they're not lying?" Ron roared, red-faced. "What if they're trying to sell us out?"

"Why would they have to do all this to sell us out when Hermione could have simply told Draco everything she knew and he could have told his father?" Harry retaliated. "Get real, Ron. If they're honestly going through this much trouble to help us the least we can do is help them by making sure no one finds out about what they're up to."

"They don't seem all that bothered to keep things hushed up when he's bending that slut over the table in the wide open."

Draco shot to his feet, his wand at Weasley's throat, fury radiating in his chest. Hermione screamed at him, grabbing his arm and Potter roared, pointing his own wand at Draco's chest. Weasley looked ready to empty his bowels at the fury in Draco's eyes.

"Watch your fucking mouth about her Weasel or I swear to Merlin I will end your miserable sodding life right here and now."

"Draco, stop it!"

"Back off, Malfoy," Potter scowled. "You're out of line."

"Draco, calm down, it doesn't matter," Hermione urged in an attempt to pacify him. "He doesn't really mean it, he's just upset-"

"Don't fucking speak for me, you filthy slag!" Weasley screeched and then squealed as Draco dug his wand harder into his neck.

"Ron, shut your fucking mouth!" Potter hollered, looking incised. "Malfoy, stand down before I hex you!"

"Everyone, please, just calm down!" Hermione begged, tugging at Draco's arm uselessly. "Draco, this isn't helping anything! We need them on our side! Please, just sit down and we'll talk this through."

Draco caught Hermione's eyes which were bright with unshed tears. He could see how much this was tearing her apart. With one last murderous look at Weasley, he withdrew his wand, taking a little pleasure in seeing the small burn mark from where it had pressed into him. Potter lowered his own and slowly the three of them regained their seats, Weasley seething.

"Ron, you're my best mate, but I'm going to have to side with these two," Potter said, causing Weasley to stammer angrily. "They need our help. All they're asking you to do is keep your mouth shut and cover for them if necessary. That's not asking much. I trust them. And if you trust me, then you trust them as well. Now shake Malfoy's hand and let's get to bed."

Draco and Weasley glared at each other for several minutes before Weasley extended his hand, looking as though he'd rather chew it off than have him touch it. But Draco took the proffered limb and shook it quickly before dropping it and handing him his wand reluctantly. Then Potter dragged Weasley out of the room with a nod at Hermione's quiet thanks.

When they were alone again they sat silently, unsure of what to say, the tension in the room palpable. Draco glanced at Hermione who was hugging herself, wishing he knew how to comfort her, wanting to apologize for his brutish behavior which had led them to this mess in the first place.

She met his gaze, her face gaunt, the look in her eyes terrifying.

"We can't see each other again," she whispered, turning away again as if it were too hard to look at him. "We put everything at risk. It would be best if we just stayed away from each other until we have to leave. I can finish up the potion, it's closer to me. You just focus on getting through exams. If anything happens, send me an owl. I'll let you know where to meet me next Friday."

Draco knew she was in no state to argue with so only nodded. He watched her stand and walk to Weasley's abandoned essay, unrolling it slightly before setting it on the table closest to her.

"Please take this back to Ron and tell him to read page 637 of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi," she requested monotonously to the floor. She turned to the door, lingering for a moment longer before hurrying from the room, leaving Draco alone to curse their fucked up lives.

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A/N: Guys, thank you SO MUCH for all your love and reviews and so many thanks to all my favorites and follows, you are all amazing and I'm so happy to have you reading! So many hugs to you all, hope you enjoyed these lemons, even if the last one was kind of sour... :P

Perditrix: Unfortunately, there is no spell (that they have found) to fix her hymen and make her appear a virgin. No easy solutions for our couple, I'm afraid!

Guest: Thank you for your review! Hope this chapter fulfilled your curiosity!

BoredRavenclaw620: Occam's Razor will definitely not be applicable in this tale! And thank you for realizing that they are indeed teens who are emotionally underdeveloped and (as obvious in this chapter) make many mistakes. Maybe if they were older, more experienced, they would be able to head some issues off early (or, you know, choose to romp somewhere other than extremely public places...) but alas, they ARE teenagers and their choices reflect a lot on that fact in this story.

AuraAuthor: Are you even more pissed at them now?! Lol. Silly children! Also, you know I can't make promises as to my character's welfare...

CatwinWo: You had me laughing so hard! Yes, they are in quite a pickle! Maybe they could find a way out of this if they weren't such horny bastards...

LissaDream: Indeed ;)

lovestorylover2000: Hey, if you are writing English that well and reading my story well enough to enjoy it, then fucking good on you! I'm very jealous that you are bi-lingual! I am TERRIBLE at learning languages, sign language is the best I've got! I'm glad you are enjoying their shenanigans, wonder what you think of this little problem they've brewed up...

everylastingtrueromance: Yes, Hermione has quite a lot to go through in this story. And LOVE?! I don't know if Draco is ready for all that, but we'll see... ;)

XOXO

RynStar15


	13. Promissa

Hermione tossed and turned for hours, too upset to sleep and too worried to think about taking a potion. She had very little time to figure everything out; she had to use every second she was given.

In four days she would be taking the Dark Mark and receiving the Arcavi. In just over a week they would be going back to their world and the real work would begin. It was hardly believable to her that _this_ was supposed to be the easy part. What was receiving the Dark Mark compared to the assassination of elite Death Eaters, torture, and battle?

How had her life gotten so complicated? Where were the days when she played in the schoolyard with her Muggle friends, when her mother read her bedtime stories and her father taught her to ride her bike? When all she had to worry about was which shoes matched her dress and how hard the math test would be on Tuesday? She had never imagined in her wildest dreams that in her eighteen short years she would be facing imminent death by dark wizards. That stuff was for fairy-tales and sci-fi films. Certainly not for a comely, nobody bookworm like herself. She was no hero - she wasn't Harry. She wasn't brave or strong, she wasn't made for a life like this. She was made to sit behind a desk and spout textbook answers and formulate complicated calculations in her head. This was all wrong, so very, very wrong…

But she had told everyone she could do this, she'd sworn she'd see this through, so she would. If it meant that she would die in a few weeks, so be it. Everyone faced death at some point; hers would just be sooner than she'd anticipated. She'd known what the stakes were entering this mission. It was a risk she was willing to take to end this damnable war.

She wished she could go into this whole situation with her head held high, but the ugly truth was - she was a coward. She didn't want to die; she was terrified of the unknown. The reason she read so much was because she wanted to know everything. Death was so uncertain...

She wasn't ready to give in yet, there was still so much she wanted to do, so much she had to accomplish. The thought of never seeing Ron or Harry or Ginny or the Weasleys or the Order or her parents again petrified her. The thought of never seeing Draco, of never telling him how she felt, of never knowing what they might have been together…

She shook herself mentally. It didn't matter what she felt. This was her mission, she would not fail.

Hermione slipped in and out of consciousness, her sleep plagued with dreams of Blaise grinning wickedly above her as he raped her while Ron and Harry watched from the sidelines with disappointment etched in every line of their faces. The image changed quickly to Voldemort, his malevolent gaze twisted in desire, to a big pregnant belly bursting to reveal the now familiar black creature with eyes red as rubies, raising a wand to her while she screamed over and over and over…

She glanced over at the Gryffindor table when she arrived at breakfast, hoping to catch a glimpse of Ron or Harry or Draco, but the three of them were oddly absent, barely making it to their double Charms on time. She wanted to ask what they were up to but didn't dare. Instead, she shoved her notebook at Pansy to take notes during the lecture and grabbed an emery board, filing her nails absentmindedly as if she hadn't a care in the world, a tip she'd picked up from Daphne last week. She kept her eyes resolutely off the three boys and only looked up from her task when they were instructed to practice conjuring exotic animals at Flitwick's request. She remembered just in time that she wasn't supposed to be, well, herself, and made several bad attempts before finally producing a stunning flock of flamingos which flounced around the room, tearing it apart and chasing poor Neville while she tried to join in with the Slytherin's laughter.

The rest of the day was the same, trying not to look at Draco or the boys while she ran ideas over and over in her mind of the best way to fix the situation she was in. Like the fact that she was clearly no longer a virgin. So far as she'd found she couldn't reverse it. But there had to be something…could she Confund Voldemort strongly enough to make him believe she was a virgin? Was there maybe something she could conjure to place, well, _down there_ to make it _seem_ like she was? Or could he tell in another way?

And when - _if_ \- she was caught…then what? Would he kill her on the spot? Would she be punished? Imprisoned? How would she finish the potion if she couldn't get to it? Would Draco finish it when he noticed she didn't return and take it and go back without her? Surely not, he hadn't been for this idea in the first place.

There was another worry that began to plague her come Tuesday: why were the three Gryffindors suddenly so mysterious? They were late for meals, barely sprinting into class on time, and nowhere to be seen in the between times. What were they up to? And how did they seemingly become chums overnight, especially after what Ron had witnessed?

As Wednesday melted into Thursday she felt the panic set in. Blaise had finally quit pestering her about making up for their missed "session" Friday night as everyone could see how tense she was. Pansy tried to soothe her with painful shoulder massages and pep talks about not being nervous and Daphne had taken to doing her homework for her.

Hermione was finding it hard to concentrate on anything except the urge to run as far and as fast as she could. Every time she passed McGonagall or Lupin she wanted to beg them to help her, to tell her what to do, but it was too risky. They would probably think she was a spy for Voldemort and lock her up.

She allowed herself to take to her sanctuary in the library and searched for any book that might help her, transfiguring the obscure covers to Standard Book of Spells, Grade Seven so no one would ask her about her unusual reading choices. Her stomach twisted as the clock on the wall ticked ever closer towards closing time and since her Malfoy-self did not have nearly the rapport with the librarian as her Granger side, she was forced out with everyone else to retire to her room, only after gulping down the foul potion under Pansy's watchful gaze. Blaise took her aside on her way to the stairs and gave her a searing kiss, a grin on his face.

"It's all coming together, my love. Just one more day. Are you ready?" he asked, anticipation written on his face. Hermione attempted a smile back.

"I hope so."

"Nervous?"

"Of course."

"But excited?"

She pecked him on the lips. "What do you think?"

He grinned at her, squeezing her shoulders comfortingly. "Get some rest, you have a big day ahead of you."

No one bothered her once she sought her bed, which she was thankful for. She closed the drapes and stared at the emerald coverings listening to the rain pounding outside, wondering if she would live to see the weekend. She heard the girls ready themselves for bed, shushing each other so as not to disturb her, and then listened to their soft breathing as, one by one, they fell asleep.

She debated between taking a Sleeping Draught or not as she knew she needed rest, but the thought of sleeping away the last hours she might have made her feel ill. She wanted to savor even the terror that ran through her, knowing very well that in twenty-four hours she may not feel anything at all.

So absorbed in her musings was she that she didn't hear the lock on the door release and shot straight up in bed when her curtains blew open of their own accord. She dove for her wand but was halted, her mouth covered by an invisible source. Panicked, she whimpered and fought, forced back against the bed as dread filled her.

Draco's head materialized suddenly and she gasped, then slapped his hand away. He quickly whispered a Silencing and Sealing charm on the curtains and then pulled the Invisibility Cloak the rest of the way off himself.

"What in the name of Merlin do you think you're doing?" Hermione whispered angrily, forgetting momentarily about the Silencing Spell. "I thought I told you to stay away from me? This is too dangerous, you have to leave, now-"

"Trust me, will you?" he said, sounding offended. "No one saw me, I came in with a prefect."

She huffed, her heart still racing with residual fear. She wanted to yell at him for scaring her, but she was so secretely happy he was there that she couldn't get herself to pick a fight.

"How can you get up the girl's stairs?" Hermione asked instead, falling to a question she'd had for weeks now.

"Eh? Oh!" he chuckled. "That old rule? We figured out how to disable it eons ago. Don't tell me your Gryffindors still have it in place?"

"Of course we do!" Hermione replied sternly. "It's very important!"

"Mmm, but then how would I get to come see you in the middle of the night?" he purred, a seductive smile playing across his face in the dim light. Memories of his lips upon hers, of what had happened the last time they were, filled her with apprehension.

"Draco, you shouldn't be here…" she said softly. She knew that if he touched her, kissed her, she would succumb instantly. She needed to stay strong, stay focused. He had to know that they couldn't do this anymore, it was far too risky.

"Don't worry, I didn't come here for that, if that's what you're worried about," he muttered, sounding slightly put-out. She opened her mouth to explain but he cut her off. "You didn't honestly think I was just going to let you go tomorrow night on your own?"

She sighed. "Draco, you can't come, you know it's impossible-"

"Maybe I can't be there in the manor, but Potter, Weasley, and I have come up with a plan," he proclaimed.

"A plan for _what?"_ she asked exasperatedly. "We already _have_ a plan!"

"You can't get that Arcavi and we both know it," he snapped deadly, his features hard. "They'll find out as soon as that sick bastard sticks his prick in you, maybe even before."

Hermione shuddered at his harsh depiction and his demeanor softened.

"Sorry," he apologized, his eyes bright with concern. "But don't worry; we're going to get you out of it."

"How? Draco, I have to get that Mark!"

"See, that's the thing! We all figure you'll receive the Mark before he…well, anyways, our idea is that as soon as you get the Mark, you're going to have to get out of there. It shouldn't be too hard. Just say you need to use the powder room or something, freshen up. As a Malfoy you can Apparate directly out of there, so there won't be anything stopping you once you're alone."

"And then what? Hide out for the rest of the week?" she asked contemptuously.

"Actually, yes," he stated, and she looked at him incredulously. "Look, if you run, they're going to come looking for you. You know as well as I do that once you take the Mark you are in it for life, his eternal slave. He will kill you if he finds you. The only way he won't find you if you stay in one of our safe houses."

"It will completely blow our cover!" she cried. "They'll instantly know that I've switched sides!"

"How the hell will they know why you ran? They'll just figure you reneged! They'll have no clue where to find you or what you're involved in. You can't come back here, any Death Eater's child would turn you right in. An alarm will go up as soon as they notice you missing. We'll hide you away, it's only for a few days."

"And what about the Order?" she snapped, angry at his proposal, at the fact that he had planned this preposterous idea without her. "Have you forgotten about them? We'll have to tell them about us if I am to stay in one of the safe houses."

"We already have."

Hermione gawked at Draco who looked surprisingly cool under the heated circumstances. Her jaw nearly dislocated as she stared at him, watched him wince as she swelled with fury.

 _"What?!"_

"Hermione, it's fine," he placated, placing his hand upon hers which she whipped out of his grasp, her anger mounting. "Really! Leon and Valouris have been in contact with the Order for months without Potter or Weasley even knowing about it. Apparently, Valouris went to Lupin as soon as she found out about having to receive the Arcavi. Being the DADA instructor, she figured he'd know about it. Unfortunately, he'd never heard of it, no one in the Order had, but he started watching Valouris and cornered her one day, asking her to come to their side so they could protect her. According to him, she literally cried with relief."

Hermione's head was spinning. Valouris had joined the Order without anyone knowing? How hadn't there been any indication? Why hadn't Lupin or McGonagall spoken to her about it? And why wouldn't they have told Harry?

"Why would Leon know and not Harry or Ron?"

"She was terrified of anyone on her side finding out, so she begged Lupin to only tell who he must," he explained. "Of course Leon found her out and reached out to her and they started spending time together, corresponding with Lupin, trying to figure out how to get her out of this situation. Remember when I found the book?"

She nodded numbly, still trying to wrap her head around this new information.

"Well, I may not have found it entirely on my own," he admitted sheepishly. "When I went to the Room of Hidden Things the door to the Vanishing Cabinet was ajar and the book was in there with this note marking the chapter."

He handed her a slip of parchment with a note from Valouris to Leon. Confusion quickly melted back into fury.

"You kept this from me, too?" she snarled lowly, looking up at him. "You realize that if you had told me about this when you found it that I would have known _exactly_ who Moony was and we could have saved ourselves _two weeks_ of worry? We could have come up with a plan _together_ TWO SODDING WEEKS AGO, MALFOY!"

Draco had the decency to look guilty while their ears rang with her reprimand.

"I made a mistake," he admitted lowly, meeting her infuriated gaze, his one of sincerity. "I honestly thought I was helping you by taking this on alone. I didn't want you to have yet another thing to worry about when you've already..."

He shook his head and looked away, not able to meet her eye when he spoke next. "This whole damn thing has been so unfair to you. I thought that if I could take care of this myself that I could spare you just one more thing..." He finally looked back at her apologetically. "I was wrong. I'm sorry. I should have come straight to you. My job is to protect you and I thought I was doing so by keeping this from you. I never meant to lie."

Hermione sighed in frustration, her anger simmering beneath his admission. She could see where he was coming from - she hadn't necessarily taken any of this in stride and was ready to crack as it was. There was no way for him to know she'd instantly recognize Lupin's code name. To him, it was just one more mystery, one more stressor on his already taxed partner. He was trying to protect her and she couldn't deny the emotion that surged through her at the thought.

"You should have come straight to me," she agreed, her voice still wavering from repressed rage. "We are partners, we're supposed to be working together."

He watched her apprehensively, waiting for her to strike, to lash out again, but she swallowed down the urge. More fighting would lead them nowhere and they had precious little time as it was. He was a damn fool, but he had only done what he thought was right and she couldn't hold it against him forever.

"However, I understand why you didn't. But from now on, we need to be completely open and honest with each other or we'll never survive. Promise me you won't keep anything from me anymore?"

He nodded solemnly. "I give you my word."

She sighed again, pressing down any lingering anger. "Well, I suppose we've finally caught a break, haven't we? Having the Order on our side will definitely help things along. How did you prove to them who we were, though?"

"Potter used his map thing and Moody tested my blood for the potion and they're all on board."

She shook her head disbelievingly. "I can't believe it worked. Even so, I don't understand how this is going to help us. I still have to get the Mark, that doesn't change anything."

"Everything is set. You don't need to worry about anything tomorrow except for getting through that meeting. You remember how I told you it would go?"

She nodded, her fingers twisting absentmindedly in the bed sheets, her mind running through everything he'd told her as she had every day for the past week.

"Good. As soon as you get the Mark you need to get out any way you can, alright? Chances are they are going to be watching you; they might even be counting on you to run. The Dark Lord has no qualms about murdering his followers, so as soon as you're alone, Apparate to the Burrow. Do you know where the barrier lines end?" Again, she nodded. "We'll be watching for you. As soon as you land we'll come get you. You won't be able to leave once you enter the grounds, otherwise they will be able to track you to a certain extent. Now, in case things go bad, there will be Order members stationed outside the manor. If they suspect you or if anything feels wrong to you, you can call us with this."

He handed her a galleon and she smiled, recognizing it as one of the ones she'd made for the DA. "All you have to do is touch it with one finger in case they take your wand. We'll come right away and get you out of there. Make sure to hide it somewhere well - on the off chance they decide to pat you down or something."

"How will they get in the Manor?" she asked lowly, her eyes on the small piece of gold in her fingers.

"Valouris has already taken care of that. Apparently, she informed the Order of how to disable the wards weeks ago. It seems this Malfoy was just as eager to get out of there as I was."

Hermione instantly felt guilty. She'd only lived in this nightmare for a few weeks and she thought she was going to lose it; Draco had been dealing with these monsters for years. If he could do it, she could damn well make it through this next twenty-four hours.

"If she's already given them the ability to deactivate the wards, why haven't they just stormed the Manor already?" she asked.

"Valouris was going double-agent for them as well; they were waiting for her to get the Mark and set up a trap. They had no idea what the Arcavi was for until I showed them the book she'd found. They're outraged and we all agree that you are to do anything in your power to prevent the placement, even if it means blowing your cover. Losing your ability as a spy is preferable to having a second Dark Lord. I told you before, Hermione, and I meant it: you are not going to die for that bastard. Swear to me."

She looked up at his severe tone. He reached out and grasped her hands tightly, the galleon crushed in her fist. His eyes were hard glaciers, his face lined with worry and fatigue.

"Swear to me, right now, on your life, on your _magic,_ that you will not let him touch you, that you will not sacrifice yourself for this. _Swear to me."_

His voice was so harsh, so... _frightened,_ that she broke. As much as she wanted to lie, she couldn't, as he very well knew.

"I swear I'll do everything in my power to prevent it," she murmured solemnly. "You know as well as I do that I may have no choice. But I'll try."

He didn't seem relieved at all by her words, but he exhaled and sat back, dropping her hands before clearing his throat and quickly changing the subject.

"McGonagall is going to help us sneak out the potion for you to work on at the Burrow. It will be safer there anyways in case the school is searched for Valouris."

She nodded in agreement, turning the galleon over and over in her hands, her mind reeling. So much could go wrong, no matter which way she looked at it. Certainly, having the Order to help was beneficial, but only if she could get away...what if they couldn't get to her in time? What if he "planted" the Arcavi before she was given the Mark, just to be sure?

"Do you have any questions?" She shook her head. "Are you alright?" She shook her head again and his hands covered hers once more, gently this time, stilling them. She shuddered at the contact, wondering if this would be the last time she'd ever feel them.

"Hermione, look at me."

She looked up into Draco's beautiful face, trying to memorize every line and feature. How could someone so beautiful go for someone as plain and ordinary as herself? How had she taken this man for granted? Why hadn't she spent every moment in his arms that she could? Now that she was down to one last night she would give anything to take the others back and spend them with him...

"It's going to be fine," he murmured, breaking into her thoughts, his brows furrowed as he watched her mind race. "We have everything planned out. I know you're scared and honestly, you'd be a fool if you weren't. None of this is fair to you and there is nothing I wouldn't give to take this from you, but I know it was my selfishness that put you here and that is something I will regret for the rest of my life."

"This isn't your fault, Draco," she whispered. "I wanted to do this. I'm just worried something will go wrong and I'll ruin this entire mission…"

"Nothing will go wrong, alright?" he said tersely, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look up at him. "We are going to get you out of there. They will never see it coming and they will never know why. In just over a week from now we will be back home and we'll kill Nagini and it will be over. It's going to be alright. Do you trust me?"

Hermione searched his deep eyes, so full of determination and control. She knew with a certainty bred from these last few weeks that if she was to put her life in anyone's hand, it would be his.

"Yes, Draco. I trust you."

Not caring about whether it was right or wrong, Hermione leaned forward and kissed him, their lips touching reverently, almost hesitantly, dragging it out for several moments, feeling the power from just that simple contact, letting it remove every worry and doubt inside her. For right this moment, there was nothing but them. She could deal with tomorrow if she could just have this moment.

When she pulled away they gazed at each other briefly before he leaned forward and caught her head in his hand, dragging her lips to his, making her whimper with relief. Gently, he pressed her back against the mattress and kissed her deeply, igniting her senses and setting them to simmer as he undid her slowly. Their movements were unhurried, drawn out, expressing every emotion they tried to deny.

His hands flowed over her leisurely, making her shudder. He drew her nightgown over her head and continued to undo her until she was nothing more than a puddle of nerves, each one more sensitive than the last. His lips only left hers to explore as she dragged at his clothes, eager to have him naked against her.

And then he was and they took their sweet time just feeling the other against, heat and desire flooding through them. His hands ran down her sides to her hips and she kissed his neck, his lips at her temple. She moaned lowly as he slid into her until he was buried to the hilt, her hips canting to meet his, their legs twined, their hands linked, every inch of their bodies connected in the most intimate way.

She could hear his breath in her ear, feel the beat of his heart against her chest, smell the musk of his body, that scent that always seemed to cling to her no matter how many times she washed. She moaned and rose to him as he moved lazily inside her, stretching, filling, destroying her. She knew that she was his, irrevocably. She ached to tell him, finally, how much she loved him, but she didn't want to ruin the moment with something he could never return. She knew he felt for her what he'd never felt for anyone before or anyone after. Even if it wasn't love, it was enough for her.

They broke each other, climbing gradually to that peak, taking satisfaction in every breath. Eventually that weight built up until Hermione shattered, bringing Draco along with her. It was more than what they'd ever shared, so much softer and so much more powerful than before so that they lay still for a long time in the aftermath, still wrapped in each other, unable to move.

After a while, when Hermione had sunk into a sated stupor, she felt Draco pulling away and she instinctively grabbed at him, dragging him back against her.

"Stay?" she murmured hopefully.

She felt his hesitation but finally he sank down beside her and tugged her up, swaddling the blankets around them. Hermione snuggled into his warmth, her cheek cradled on his arm, her face pressed again his strong chest, contentment lulling her into submission.

If she died tomorrow, at least she had tonight.

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A/N: Apologies for the late update, I've been extremely busy in RL. This is the calm before the storm, my friends: the fun is about to begin.

BoredRavenclaw620: Bahaha! You are too perceptive! Don't worry, the deal with the contraception will be revealed I BELIEVE in the next chapter? I forget, there's too much going on, lol. But it does come up! And yes, blustery Ron is always blustery ;) I'm actually one of the few Dramione shippers that doesn't hate Ron. He's one of my favorite characters - he's just such a hot-headed teenage boy! And dumb Draco is dumb, but alas, he got there in the end!

Perditrix: Psh, why should randy teenagers care about getting caught? It's not like it could possibly put the world in danger or...oh, fuck. Yeah, they're idiots, but at least it's hot, right? :P Thankfully, Draco has wised up. Think this plan will work?

AuraAuthor: Yeah, those scenes are some of my faves! I love the whole "so steamy can't stop even though we're in the wide open" thing. And yes, poor Ron indeed! No friend wants to see that, especially with an "enemy!" Good thing he came in after instead of during, that would have been a nightmare!

LissaDream: ALWAYS hot sex! ;) This plot is so damn thick it's practically solidified! And we're only halfway through!

everlastingtrueromance: Right? They should have been caught forever ago, they're terrible at this sneaky thing! But hey, worked out for the best, didn't it? Just goes to show, if there is ever an opportunity to have sex in the library - DO IT!

XOXO

RynStar15


	14. Para Proelium

"Val? It's time to get up."

Draco shot straight up, his heart thundering, and looked down at Hermione who was wide-eyed. He quickly scrambled for his clothing as she hurriedly assured Pansy that she was getting up, then cursed and seized Draco's wand from the bed to remove the Silencing Charm. His brows lifted at how easily she wielded it.

"I'll be out in a minute," Hermione called, motioning for Draco to hurry who pointed at his pants which were halfway up his legs as if to say "what do you think I'm doing?"

"Go down to breakfast with the girls, I want some privacy," Hermione demanded, her voice level even though he could see his wand tremble in her grip.

"Why, is something wrong?" Pansy's sickly concerned voice asked.

"Just do as I say, Parkinson!"

There was a small squeal and then scampering footsteps followed by the bang of the dormitory door. Draco watched Hermione fall backwards, her hand over her heart, while he chuckled at the image of Hermione Granger scolding a Slytherin and getting away with it.

"Didn't think you had it in you," Draco smirked, cinching his belt.

"That," Hermione groaned weakly. "Was way too close. Hurry up, you'll be late for class."

He watched her tug at the hangings for a moment until she growled and un-did the Sealing Charm, Draco trying (and failing) to hold back his laughter at her harried movements.

"Oh, shut up!" she snarled and locked the dormitory door so she could dress. He watched her, mouth falling open, as she tore through her trunk completely starker. He swore he would never get used to her luscious body; the slight curve of her hips, her toned belly, the dainty mounds of her breasts. He knew how soft her skin felt in his calloused grip, knew how her tight heat welcomed him like an old friend. He felt himself hardening even as she dragged her skirt on and before she could snap her bra into place, dove over the bed to tackle her to the floor where she shrieked.

"Drac-!"

The rest of her proclamation was drowned on a moan as he took her mouth, his fingers sliding expertly into her. She shook her head and pushed at his shoulders as if to tell him off but he only hooked his fingers up, catching that spot that made her reel, and she was suddenly pulling at him, shoving at his pants, desperate for his touch. Together they pushed the material down to his knees and he shoved into her making her gasp, her nails digging in. She was so wet and tight that he growled, each stroke driving him to insanity. He rode her hard and fast, pulling her legs up so he could go deeper, watched her eyes roll back as she whimpered and moaned.

"Draco, please, I'm so close!" she begged and he cursed, her desperate pleas lancing straight through him, nearly undoing him. He needed to get her there first, needed to have her screaming beneath him, knowing it was all for him, so he pounded her harder until she cried out, her reaction so intense he exploded, a roar ripped from his chest. He kept his eyes on her tightly scrunched face as she milked him, her core spasming tightly around his throbbing cock.

Draco's hips slowed, eking out the last of their climax, easing them both down from their high. He slumped against her, panting.

"Gods, you make me lose my mind," he gasped against her sweaty neck.

"You have…no idea…" she wheezed below him and he realized he was crushing her. Lifting himself so she could breathe, he grinned stupidly down at her sated face. As he stared at her, wondering how the hell he had gotten so damn lucky, he was hit by a sudden realization.

"Shit, Hermione, we haven't been using protection!" he cursed, making to leap for his wand.

"Don't worry," she soothed, placing a settling hand on his arm to still his motions. "I found a monthly spell a while back since we tend to, er, skip the formalities. Even with those Fertility Potions we should be fine."

Relieved, he rolled onto his back on the floor with a groan, throwing an exhausted arm over his eyes.

"No way," Hermione reprimanded, smacking his stomach, making him grunt. "Get up, we have to get to class!"

"Don't wanna," he moaned, rolling onto his stomach and he heard her giggle. Knowing she would have nothing to laugh about for while he intended to drag this out as long as he could, so he made snoring noises into the rug beneath him until she chuckled above him.

"Draco, really! We're going to be late!"

"You go. Tell our professors you killed me."

"It might not be a lie if you don't move your lazy arse!" she chuckled and threw his shirt at him, missing by several inches which made him snort.

He peeked up at her where she was re-adjusting her skirt. With a mischievous grin, he rolled so that he could look up it and made a sound of approval. She looked down and jumped back with a squeal.

"Draco! You're horrible! Stop it this instant and get dressed!"

Ignoring her, he ran his hand up her smooth leg while she smacked at him, trying to button her shirt up at the same time.

"Draco, that's enough, we are so late!"

"Don't care," he said, hoisting himself to his knees, planting hot kisses on her thigh, pushing her skirt higher, grinning when she attempted to slap him away.

"Seriously, come on, we have to go!" she argued breathlessly as he tugged at her knickers, dropping them around her ankles, growling as her scent flooded his nostrils.

"Fuck that," he murmured, licking her still-swollen slit and making her suck in a harsh breath as he flicked her hood.

"Draco, t-that's enough," she stammered, grabbing the bedpost for support when he slid his tongue up inside her and she moaned. "We have to…to…"

She moaned louder when he sucked her clit and pressed two fingers into her. Her legs fell further apart and he laved his tongue across her nub over and over until she was shuddering above him, one hand digging into the bedpost, the other gripping his hair as she gasped and whimpered. Draco groaned at her taste, feeling her walls drench his fingers, knowing it was for him.

She came hard, her knees buckling so that she had to clutch his shoulder as the spasms rocked her body, soaking his face. While she looked on, he lapped up her juices and slid his fingers out of her and sucked them clean, his eyes closing on the sensuality of her flavor.

When he glanced back up at her, an evil glint in his eyes, she attempted a stern face.

"That was a rotten trick," she scolded, her fingers still clenched against his skin.

"You seemed to like it," he smirked cockily. She flushed madly, the look so endearing his heart stuttered.

"That's beside the point! We are so late!"

"We have twenty minutes, princess," he said, nodding at the clock behind her head. "Now give me a fucking kiss before I beg."

With a sigh, she leaned down and took his face between her hands and kissed him so sweetly it made him ache. When she cocked an eyebrow at his prominent erection he chuckled.

"Ignore him; he doesn't seem to care about such things as being on time."

"Well too bad, I do," she replied, smiling. "Now put him away and get ready."

"Yes ma'am," he sighed and she giggled again. Once they were finally dressed and their hair righted to its natural state, he snuck up behind her and drew his arms around her, pressing his cheek to her temple.

"Keep that coin on you today," he muttered, hating the feel of her stiffening, her happy mood vanishing as surely as if it had never been. But her safety was much more important right at this moment. "Come straight back here after dinner and don't leave until you have to. I'll be right outside the common room. If anything seems out of place at all, Hermione, anything little thing, squeeze that coin. We're prepared to take you out of here at a moment's notice."

She nodded jerkily and he kissed her neck, holding her tighter, lingering in the feel of having her in his arms, wondering if it might be the last time, the thought making him shudder in fear.

"We have to go," she finally whispered and he let her go reluctantly. Hermione reached down to grab her bag and he remembered he had left his in his dorm. Glancing at the clock he swore inwardly and threw the cloak over himself, following her out of the dungeons and ditching her to sprint up to Gryffindor Tower, cursing the fact that in mere hours Hermione would be facing a nightmare and he still had to worry about getting to class on time.

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Hermione felt a strange calm fall over her as the day drew to a close. Every passing minute was just wasted time until she left. These hours were hardly even real to her. She stared at her teachers, smiled at her "friends," and ate mechanically, knowing she needed her strength. She refused to look at Draco or Harry or Ron or even Ginny or Neville or Luna; it was just too hard to imagine the very real fact that she may never see them again.

Don't think like that, she scolded herself. Everything is going to be fine.

It was unreal to know that tomorrow, if she lived until tomorrow, she would be a Death Eater. She knew it was barely more than a tattoo; it didn't mean anything, not really, not to her. Voldemort could never win her allegiance. This was only a necessary step in his destruction, a means to an end. She was an essential element to his downfall now. She wouldn't fail.

Now she knew how Harry always felt and her heart swelled for her best friend. How did he do this all the time? How was he so strong and she so weak? Was he always this scared and never showed it?

The instant the puddings cleared, Blaise took her hand and dragged her to the dungeons, his palm sweaty in hers.

"How are you feeling?" he asked in an undertone as a couple second years girls ran screaming past them, several boys with a bag of Dungbombs hot on their trail.

"Fine," Hermione replied, snatching the bag from one of the boy's hands on impulse, forgetting for a moment she wasn't Head Girl.

"Hey!" the boy cried indignantly until his friend elbowed him and whispered something in his ear and they skulked away sullenly. Blaise gave her an odd look but she merely shrugged and shoved the bag into the nearest alcove as if it were something she'd done a dozen times.

Their posse sat around them by the fireplace, the girls worrying over her while the boys pouted at Blaise's luck.

"I'm going to join as soon as we're out of this place," Theo claimed, his arms crossed over his bony chest. "How about you, Parkinson?"

"Of course!" she said, looking stricken that he would ever doubt her. "Haven't I always said that?"

"Bet you'll chicken out," he sniggered.

"Will not!"

"And you, Greengrass?" he continued, raising his dark brow at her and she looked up briefly from a letter she was writing.

"Not really any of your business, is it Theodore?" she replied coolly, resuming her task.

"Oooh, touchy," he snickered.

"Lay off the women, Nott," Blaise said, draping his arm over Hermione's shoulders. She stiffened and thought of Draco who was sitting just outside the door.

"Don't see why Val gets it early," Nott muttered darkly, leering over at her. "Not after last year-"

"If you fancy keeping that tongue in your mouth you'll want to shut it," Blaise snarled dangerously, glaring at the brunette who grimaced. Crabbe and Goyle chortled and Pansy paused in the process of giving Hermione her potion. With a small smile, she took the potion out of Pansy's stationary hand and downed it in one, holding back the look of disgust she usually had.

She didn't join in the conversation and, for once, no one bothered her about it. She felt numb, almost as if she were standing outside her body, watching herself wait patiently for her fate to arrive. At promptly eleven o'clock, Pansy, Daphne, and Millicent dragged her up the staircase to ready her while the boys cleared the common room. She smiled and answered whatever they asked as they primped her, declaring how much they wished they were her and how lucky she was. Pansy worked her magic on her hair while Daphne applied way more makeup than had to be necessary as Millicent sorted through Valouris' ample supply of perfumes.

"Here Val, this was sitting on your bed," Pansy trilled, handing her a large box in shiny black wrapping. Pulling the bow, Hermione lifted the lid to reveal a silver silk dress robe, the single most elegant thing she'd ever seen in her life. She drew it out amidst a gale of squeals from the girls and had to admit, it was beautiful. The fabric flowed like water between her fingers as she passed it to Daphne to hold while Pansy pulled out a black silk corset from Valouris' trunk and motioned for Hermione to grab the bedpost. She was soon aware as to why this was necessary.

She gasped in pain as Pansy and Millicent used their wands to tug and pull at the strings, practically breaking Hermione's ribs in an effort to make her waist even smaller. She'd always been fine with the way her body looked before; but now, looking in a long mirror that Daphne provided, she looked…well, like a woman. Her small breasts spilled over the tight sheath and she actually had hips. She allowed the girls to help her into the garters attached to matching black panties and tried not to show how incredibly mortified she was with the proceedings. She blamed her blushing on her nerves as Pansy strapped her into slinky black heels. The three of them draped the gown over her head and settled it into place, shoving her in front of the mirror, fixing up her hair as Hermione just stared at herself, wide eyed.

She was the perfect virgin sacrifice. The glistening mercurial material floated over the newfound curves of her body, hugging all too intimately, the shoulders of the dress just clinging to her upper arms, her bosom overflowing from the top. Even in dangerously high heels, the bottom of the dress skimmed the floor, the faintest of trains wrapping behind her, silver buttons cascading from the low back.

Hermione's hands shook as she ran them down her front, deaf to the simpering of her fellow Slytherins. The dress robes were too tight, where would she hide the coin? She stared into her wan face, accentuated by the perfectly placed waves of her long hair Pansy had prepared, her eyes smoky, her lips a deep, lusty red. She barely looked like herself and she had to wonder...would this be the last time she stared into her own face?

Shaking the morbid thought out of her head, she turned to the girls who were waiting anxiously for her approval. She smiled, suddenly feeling very warm towards her fake friends. "It's perfect. Thank you so much for all of your help. Could I have a few minutes alone?"

"Of course!" Pansy cried, shoving Daphne and Millicent towards the door. "We'll go tell Blaise you're almost ready!"

Hermione kept the smile plastered to her face as they tore out of the room and as soon as they were gone dug the coin from the pocket of her discarded school robes and shoved it down between her breasts where the underwire was so thick no one would ever see it. As for her wand…

Thinking fast, she created an inside panel on the gown next to her right hip and slipped it inside. With all the pleats of the generous fabric no one would ever notice unless they patted her down and she could get to it quickly.

Glancing at the clock she knew she could delay no longer, so she grabbed her luxurious cloak off the bed and wrapped it around her shoulders to ward off the sudden chill of the night. With a great, steadying breath she made her way to the common room where the girls were awaiting her arrival anxiously. Crabbe and Goyle were sunk into armchairs poking something that looked disgustingly like a slug with their wands, Theo was sulking by the fireplace, and Blaise had stationed himself directly at the foot of the stairs, a grin plastered on his face.

"Oh Val, show us the robes!" Pansy urged as she neared the top of the stairs and Hermione decided to humor them rather than argue, so she pulled off the cloak as she descended, letting the stupid gaping looks from the boys steady her. At least she looked good; even if it wasn't her they were seeing.

Blaise's mouth was hanging open as she took his proffered hand and she smiled demurely.

"Val…you look…perfect," he finally proclaimed, clearing his throat, his adoring eyes wide. "There are no words to describe your beauty."

She gave him a small curtsy for thanks as her tongue seemed rooted to the roof of her mouth. He took her cloak from where she'd draped it over her arm and drew it around her shoulders, doing up the silver clasp in the front before running his hands down her arms.

"Ready?" he asked and she noticed for the first time he himself was wearing a handsome set of dress robes beneath his own cloak. Was he receiving the Mark tonight as well? They'd never spoken of it…

She nodded when she realized he was waiting for an answer and took his arm, the girls running forward to bid their farewells, Millicent spritzing her with a musky perfume on their way out.

The second they were out the door she felt Draco's presence at her shoulder. Fingers twined with hers and she tucked their hands into her cloak so Blaise wouldn't see. She didn't worry about him noticing the sound of an extra pair of footsteps as he was chattering away and hadn't even taken out his wand for precaution. She could practically feel his buoyant energy leaping off him.

She squeezed Draco's hand so hard her fingers were going numb, but he never lessened the pressure, a significant reassurance. She wanted to lean into him when he pressed his shoulder against hers as they slipped out of the front door, a very strange trio. Blaise tossed up an Impervious Charm to guard them from the driving rain and muddy ground as he kept up a string of dialogue about their new life that Hermione hardly followed, but, like her girlfriends, he didn't seem to need her input. She glanced up at the castle behind her to the blazing lights of Gryffindor Tower and her chest clenched when she noticed two figures silhouetted against the glare of the fire behind them. Even in this world they were there for her.

Her resolve strengthened at the sight. She focused on putting one foot in front of the other, her heels barely skimming the top of the muddy grass, the charm creating a hard, dry surface for her ridiculous shoes and the hem of her ridiculously expensive gown.

"There are Aurors just outside the gates," Draco whispered, his voice drowned out by the rain pounding on the invisible shield around them and Blaise's one-sided conversation. "They will Stun Blaise and take you straight to the Burrow if you want."

Resolute, she shook her head fractionally. It was enough to know she had people who cared about her even now when they didn't even know her. She was reminded of the incredible bond of those she held dear and kept their love close to her heart, a power that would destroy Voldemort in the end. And with her sacrifice tonight, she was going to help see that through.

"Hermione, you don't have to do this," he muttered imploringly into her ear and she could feel the desperation in his voice. Not wanting him to worry, she gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. He quieted as they neared the edge of the grounds, even Blaise had stopped his incessant planning. Hermione gazed up at the wrought iron gates towering above her as they swung open with a wave of Blaise's wand.

As soon as they were outside of the grounds, the village of Hogsmead glittering before them, Blaise turned to her.

"Ready?"

"As ever."

With one last squeeze of Draco's hand she released it. From this moment on, she was alone. Her mission loomed ahead, as dark and unknown as what she was to become.

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BoredRavenclaw620: Aw, come on, you don't think my genius plan will work? Voldy is really a sweetie at heart, I'm sure everything will turn out fine...

AuraAuthor: Sorry for the disappearance! I definitely have not forgotten about you all! I'm updating as often as possible! Hope you enjoyed this one!

Perditrix: Psh, confess their love? But that would be too easy! Gotta make them suffer - though they do it entirely by themselves, I swear I have no control over these two...

XOXO

RynStar15


	15. Missio de Hermione

The rain pounded as hard in Wiltshire as it had at Hogwarts and Blaise tossed up another hasty Impervious Charm to protect them the moment they landed. A cloaked figure was awaiting their arrival this time and they were immediately escorted into the manor which was stifling hot compared to the unnatural chill of the night.

Narcissa stood just inside the door looking as tense and anxious as Hermione felt. She grasped her daughter's elbow the moment they entered and dragged her up the gleaming staircase without even a word to Blaise. Hermione shot a glance back at the one person whom she had trusted to direct her through the night. As she had when they'd come before, she wished Blaise would stay with her, but he simply shot her a grin and followed the cloaked Death Eater into a dimly lit room off the entrance hall.

No women waited this time as Narcissa threw the lock on the parlor door and shoved Hermione onto a lavish settee.

"Have you had your potion tonight?" she snapped as soon as the door closed. Hermione nodded, her throat suddenly constricted.

"Now, do not lie to me Valouris, for we shall all know in a very short while," she said, pacing in front of the fire, her white-blonde hair aflame in its elegant coif. "Are you still a virgin?"

"Yes," Hermione answered, her voice very small.

"You are sure?" She rounded on Hermione, her eyes glacial, every age line drawn in stark contrast to the flames behind her.

"It's not exactly something one tends to overlook," she replied scathingly, almost convincing herself with her practiced nonchalance.

"Do not mock me, Valouris! He will kill us all if you are not!" Narcissa bellowed. Her voice held an edge of hysteria and she seemed to have aged in the few short weeks since they'd seen each other, as if the strain of their situation had weighed as heavily upon her as it had on Hermione. She could see the guilt and fear leaking from behind Narcissa's carefully guarded face. Despite her callous exterior, she was still a mother.

"I am aware of that," Hermione said, standing to go to the woman, suddenly feeling for her. Could Hermione really kill her? No, Narcissa was not an innocent woman, but Hermione knew she loved her son, and apparently her daughter, in whatever twisted way.

But it didn't matter, she couldn't think about that, she had to keep her mind on tonight. Taking the woman's cold hands in hers, Hermione attempted to soothe her.

"Everything is going to work out."

 _For me._

Narcissa nodded curtly and dropped Hermione's hands to undo the clasp of her cloak, drawing it off and gazing down at her fondly.

"You look just as I imagined," Narcissa murmured. "I can't believe how you've grown. A woman before my eyes."

She smiled tightly and turned to retrieve a black box from the mantle.

"Your father wanted you to have this for your birthday," she said, passing the heavy case to her daughter.

Hermione opened it to reveal a stunning platinum intricately woven 'M' was embroidered with tiny emeralds and diamonds which glittered in the firelight. Narcissa lifted it carefully from its velvet bed to expose the dark green ribbon it was attached to. Taking the box from her hands, Narcissa motioned for her to turn around and draped the necklace around her, setting her thick hair aside to attach it in the back. They moved to the large vanity and Hermione fingered the extravagant pendant.

"It's beautiful," she breathed. And it was. The short collar accentuated the delicate column of her throat, the 'M' settled just above her exaggerated bosom.

"Your grandmother gave it to me on my wedding day," Narcissa told her through the mirror, her eyes swimming. "Goblin made. It has been in the family for generations. Even though you will no longer be a Malfoy soon, your actions tonight pride us as you cannot imagine. You will finally be one of us."

Hermione nodded, feeling slightly nauseated, her heart going out to Draco. She couldn't fathom having to become a Death Eater to make her parents proud.

The lock on the door clicked behind them and Bellatrix sauntered into the room.

"Ah, there's my gorgeous niece!" she sneered. "Come, let me look at you."

Face burning with ire, Hermione turned toward her and Bellatrix circled her like a vulture, finally stopping to stand next to Narcissa to eye her cruelly.

"I suppose you'll do. Not going to run now, are you?"

"Bella, not tonight," Narcissa said severely.

"What?" she simpered. "It's a reasonable question. It's not as if she has exactly held up to her vows until now."

"She has proven herself ready in the eyes of our Lord, is that not enough for you?" Narcissa snapped, her eyes blazing.

"Even he can be deceived by youth and beauty," Bellatrix replied scornfully.

"And I suppose your envy has nothing to do with these accusations?"

Bellatrix hissed angrily. "What have I to be envious of this spineless brat? The Dark Lord values me above all others! Your disposable kin is of little importance to him."

"And what do you mean by that, sister?" Narcissa cried, blanching. It seemed she was unaware of Valouris' imminent demise. Bellatrix smirked maliciously and took Hermione's hand, who was hard-pressed not to yank it away.

"Come, we must not keep our master waiting any longer, dear niece."

Bellatrix led her out of the room. Hermione looked back at Narcissa who was directly behind her and she nodded encouragingly. Together, they walked down to the entrance hall and along a narrow corridor beneath the curve of the marble staircase that she'd never seen until just now. Bellatrix stopped just outside the ominous black door at the very end, her face gleaming malevolently in the dim torchlight. With a wave of her wand her silver mask appeared on her face, Narcissa Conjuring hers in turn.

"After you," Bellatrix bade spitefully, her eyes glittering malevolently. "Try to please him."

Hermione held back the urge to curse the horrible woman and instead focused on what was before her. Bellatrix grasped the serpentine handle and opened the door to reveal a dim, high-ceilinged chamber, the floor and walls made of black marble so that the firelight dancing upon the surfaces made the room appear to swim before her and Hermione suddenly regretted her dinner.

A horde of hooded Death Eaters filled the room on either side of a long aisle leading straight from her to a dais upon which Voldemort sat on a high-backed chair, Nagini slithering over his narrow shoulders. Every silver-masked face was turned towards her, watching her, waiting for her to do something. Her heart clenched in fear as the reality of the situation washed over her.

She, Hermione Granger, the Muggle-born best friend of Harry Potter, was standing before the Dark Lord and every wizard in his command, about to become one of them.

Every single person in this room wanted her dead. Every single one of them was more experienced, more hardened, more ruthless than she. Her cover as Valouris now seemed a very weak disguise and terror flooded her at the thought that they could see right through it and had simply brought her here to torture and kill her.

When one of the women behind her prodded at her back, Hermione realized she'd just been standing there like a deer in the headlights. Erasing the morbid thoughts from her mind, she straightened her shoulders and started forward, the sound of her heels echoing throughout the hushed room, Narcissa and Bellatrix striding along behind her.

As instructed by Draco, at the foot of the two steps leading up to the platform on which Voldemort resided, she curtsied before lowering herself to both her knees and bowing her head reverently, the women behind her doing the same. She heard him rise, every movement deafening in the acoustic chamber. Each step toward her weighed like a stone upon her heart and she focused on her breathing in an attempt to still the trembling that threatened to overtake her. No one made a sound, the silence ominously oppressive.

When he paused before her she dared not even breathe. Hermione hastily brought up that white wall in her mind, bringing forth only thoughts of her desire to serve the man before her, allowing those thoughts to consume her. As anticipated, her world went blissfully blank, a mere moment of rare tranquility, before those practiced thoughts were rushing across her mind, laid bare to the man who invaded it. Once satisfied, he broke the connection and she sent up a quick thanks to Moody for his laborious Occlumency lessons.

One cold finger lifted her chin so that Hermione was forced to look up at the towering wizard before her. An icy shard of fear coursed through her veins as she stared into the inhuman face of the man who had murdered Harry's parents and countless others. Every instinct inside her was clamoring for her wand, for her to kill him, to end it now before he could hurt anyone else. It could be over in an instant - no one would be expecting the treachery, they would never be able to stop her in time. She could cast spells faster than anyone she knew. So what if they killed her once they realized what she'd done? It would be worth it to know he was gone…

"Valouris Malfoy, you wish to become my follower tonight, to serve me above all else, to give your life, if necessary, in service to me?"

This is it... "Yes, my lord. I wish nothing more."

"And in becoming my obedient servant, you consent to the reception of my Arcavi, to develop and bear it, in the advancement of my reign?"

His cold voice slid down her spine like ice, his red eyes searing straight into her. Did he know? Could he possibly know who she was? It was as if he could read her, as if he could see the deception in her eyes. She had never been a good liar, she could barely fool a few dim-witted school girls, let alone a dark wizard well-versed in deception. Why had she thought she could do this?

 _Stop, you can do this, you have to do this, they're counting on you..._

Hermione swallowed harshly. "Yes, my lord."

"Then rise, my dear child, and let us begin." His white, spider-like hand appeared before her and she kissed it before taking it and allowing him to help her to her feet. Bellatrix and Narcissa had melted into the crowd at some point and Hermione had never felt so alone.

She tried to still the trembling that overtook her as he led her up the dais, her gown floating across the glossy surface. He turned her slowly to face the daunting mass of black, presenting her as if she were a prized show dog. Was Blaise out there, already one of them? No, Nott had said something about her being the first…but then where was he?

"Look on, my devoted followers, to our next comrade. By the close of this night she will not only bear the coveted echelon of a Death Eater, she will also receive my Arcavi, my latest progression in my journey towards immortal domination."

Whoops filled the air and Voldemort sneered at them all, looking incredibly pleased with himself. After a moment he lifted his spare hand and the room rang with sudden silence.

"As such, she will be honored as she can only imagine upon her upcoming nuptials. Until the delivery, however, she is to be treated as the vital implement she will become. Her safety and well-being will be of the utmost importance and I am counting on each and every one of you to see that she is as comfortable and secure as possible. She will be residing here at the Manor with me from now on; to be at my right hand at all times. She is your queen."

More cries filled the air while Voldemort smirked maliciously, Hermione looking on in astonishment. She was barely more than a child, one who had failed them not a year before, and yet with a simple word from their deviant leader, they were more than willing to accept her as their superior.

Voldemort turned his debauched gaze to her, his eyes rover her newfound curves.

"Bow to your queen," he commanded, his eyes never leaving her.

Hermione's breath caught as every single figure fell to their knees as concubines to their emperor. She jerked when Voldemort's hand settled on her lower back, the cold seeping through her skin to ice her insides.

"Rise, and watch your queen take the highest honor I can bestow."

They all stood wordlessly and Voldemort turned to her, his eyes glittering with anticipation.

"Hold out your arm."

Fear dug its razor-sharp claws into her lungs and she couldn't breathe. Her senses seemed to be on high alert, every inch of her body tense. Though no one made a sound her ears were ringing, possibly from the terrified screams she suppressed.

Time stood still. The moment she had been working towards for months was finally upon her and more poignant than she could have imagined. Never had she wanted to run so far and so fast from something and at the same time know that it was exactly what she must do. She had to go through with this; for her friends, for her family, for the millions of innocent people who would be slaughtered under Voldemort's reign. She had to do what she could to stop him. This momentary pain and fear would be a small price to pay for freedom.

Swallowing hard, Hermione raised her left arm and presented it to Voldemort. Taking her hand in his, he pushed up the tight sleeve of her gown, exposing the bare expanse of her forearm. She drank in the chaste sight of it, knowing it would never be that way again.

She closed her eyes, not wanting to witness the destruction of her innocence, knowing she would just have to replay the image in her head a million times over if she did. She heard him raise his wand, felt the tip of it press into her arm -

And then her world exploded into pain.

Fire raged through every cell and she battled the urge to drop to her knees, Draco having told her it was the worst thing she could do. She tried to quell the screams from tearing out of her but it was useless, the agony overwhelming. She felt as through her body was being ripped apart from the inside and she could suddenly feel her blood, lava hot, scorching through her veins. She felt every nuance of the image being carved into her skin, the evil that emanated from the man before her creeping into every corner of her soul, rending it through, marking it irreparably...

And then it was over, leaving her breathless and weak in its wake. Laughter reverberated around the room, duplicating the migraine she was suddenly overcome with until her world was nothing but agony.

 _"Crucio!"_

The anguish was unbearable. His evil tore through her, ripping muscle and breaking bone, white hot and excruciating, beyond anything any human could possibly endure. It went on and on and Hermione begged for death, for anything to end it…no one could possibly live through this…

She gasped harshly as the spell broke and she was left boneless in the wake. The din rose oppressively; catcalls and screams of mirth pounding through her throbbing body, every piece of her burning. Hermione realized belatedly that she was on the ground, her tear-stained cheek pressed against the floor, but had nothing left in her to stand. She knew she had to get up, to face him, to show her strength before he tortured her again, but her body wouldn't respond. She had expected torture, known the pain would be terrible, but nothing could have prepared her for this.

Voldemort was speaking but the simple task of breathing was all she could accomplish, the fire that spread through her with each intake agonizing. She knew she should listen, surely he was saying something important, something she needed to tell the others back at home, but her ears were filled with the rush of blood, the assurance that she was still alive, could still fight, could still make it back to her friends, her family, to Draco…

Draco…

 _"Cruico!"_

Her throat broke from the wrenching screams that tore through it, her body jerking with the piercing agony. There were no words to describe the impossible pain. Flames licked every corner of her body, so hot they were ice-cold, while knives sliced through every centimeter of skin…

 _You are mine,_ she heard his cruel voice chanting in her head through the pain. _You will serve by my side, you will give your life for me. But first, you will be mine._

The pain reached a crescendo and everything went blessedly black.

When she came-to, Hermione was grateful to realize only a few moments had passed as the throng of Death Eaters were still reveling in her pain, Voldemort sneering above them. She had to swallow back the bile which had risen up, knowing the more she showed her weakness the worse it would be. Draco had told her to prove that she could handle the pain, to rise and face him, but the thought of moving was enough to make her cry. Fear consumed her as Voldemort cackled deviously above her. Was he going to kill her now? Had she failed this, her very first test? She tried to move her hand to check that she still had her wand but her entire body felt as though it had been made of lead. Hermione sluggishly opened her eyes and blurred forms of Death Eaters swam before her. There were so many of them…how would she ever get out of here alive?

Dread engulfed her. She hadn't anticipated how weak the torture would make her, never having had to endure the Cruciatus Curse before. Her task now seemed impossible. How could she run if she couldn't even move? How could she fight? Would he even give her the chance to rise before he struck her down?

She thought of Harry. How many times had he faced Voldemort? How many times had he been moments from death and yet found it in himself to fight, to escape? He had been tortured that night in the graveyard, she knew he had. How had he possibly gathered the strength to fight back? He had to have been in just as much pain as she was...

But he had done it. He had fought Voldemort off, held him and a dozen Death Eaters off long enough to get to Cedric and the Cup. And he'd only been a child, not yet fifteen. This realization spurred her. If he could do it, she could too.

With every ounce of strength she had, Hermione gathered her hands under her shoulders and pushed herself up, her weak legs protesting as she stood and faced Voldemort who had stopped laughing to watch her. His face wavered across her vision but she didn't sway, holding her ground defiantly. With her back straight, she faced his sickly gleeful countenance before sinking into a low curtsy, the roars below them increasing tenfold.

When she rose, Voldemort took her hand and turned her back to the mass of Death Eaters who were bellowing with pride and admiration. Hermione had to work on just keeping her feet under her as the room tilted, her body throbbing with pain. Her eyes watered but she held herself together with sheer willpower. The worst was over - all she had to do now was maintain her façade of Valouris long enough to get away.

Voldemort allowed them to carry on for a few moments before dropping her hand to raise both of his, silence filling the room once more at his commanding presence.

"Lucius."

A tall figure moved from the front of the crowd to kneel at the base of the dais as she had done.

"Welcome your daughter to our ranks."

Hermione stiffened as his silver mask turned and his cold eyes met hers.

"Yes, my lord."

 _No,_ she begged internally. She took an unconscious step back as the tall man strode towards her. Not more, she couldn't handle it, she couldn't-

 _"Crucio!"_

She could feel his pain and disappointment through the curse, different from Voldemort's but just as devastating. Hermione shrieked in agony and terror, begging for it to be over, grateful that she was too far gone to sound out the words. She didn't know how long he held the curse, but it felt an eternity, her entire body trembling as the curse broke off and she was once more on the ground.

"Narcissa."

Hermione squeezed her eyes tight, knowing what was coming. She heard the graceful steps of Draco's mother click across the marble until she was standing directly above her. When the older woman spoke her voice was soft, detached, as if she didn't want to be there any more than Hermione did, but knew the consequences if she disobeyed.

 _"Crucio."_

Whether or not the woman wanted to torture her daughter, the pain was indistinguishable and Hermione was left panting when it finally ended. She rolled just enough to look up at her "parents," neither of which would meet her eye. They stood beside Voldemort who was looking on with a depraved sort of pride.

"Bellatrix."

 _No, no, not her, anyone but her..._ Hermione looked pleadingly up to the Malfoys, begging silently for them to intervene, but they both stood stiffly and unwavering beside their master, refusing to look at their tortured kin.

She could feel the buoyant excitement radiating off the psychotic woman as she nearly bounded up the steps to fall to her master's feet.

"My lord," she murmured demurely. Voldemort reached down and lifted her silver-clad chin, smiling down at his favorite pet.

"It is time."

Bellatrix grinned maliciously and turned to Hermione, rising and striding the two steps it took to tower over her prone figure.

"Get up, you pathetic, weak-"

"Careful, Bella, how you choose to speak to your queen," Voldemort reprimanded coldly. Hermione heard the spiteful hiss, though it was low enough not to attract anyone else's attention. Bellatrix schooled her features before turning back to her niece.

"Rise, my queen, so that we may proceed with our Lord's plan," she supplanted tightly, clearly unhappy with Hermione's new title.

Though every muscle screamed in protest, Hermione pushed herself up, knowing the request was a demand. She faced the mad woman stoically, awaiting her torture, swaying slightly, but it never came. Instead, Bellatrix held out her hand as if asking for hers, so Hermione raised her wand arm, the one not burning to the point of insanity, and the older woman grasped it tightly.

"Repeat after me, my queen," Bellatrix simpered. _"Meum sanguinem, corpus meum est autem tuum."_

 _No,_ Hermione thought hysterically. It wasn't supposed to happen, not yet, she was supposed to have time, to run to the powder room, to get away, to Apparate. But with the witch holding her tightly, there was no way she could reach for her wand or coin without being noticed and murdered on the spot. So though her throat felt as if it had been sliced with jagged glass, Hermione repeated the mantra in a horrified whisper.

 _"Meum sanguinem, corpus meum est autem tuum."_

Then, without warning, Bellatrix raised her wand and pointed it at her arm, slicing through the thin skin of her wrist, making Hermione gasp in pain as the deep laceration instantly seeped through her gown and her blood dribbled to the ground. The witch before her Conjured a vial and allowed the wound to trickle several drops of blood into it while she grinned in pleasure at Hermione's discomfort. Once she'd received her fill, Bellatrix turned to Voldemort and handed him the vial with a bow.

 _"Sicut servus tuus, ego do tibi virgo."_

Voldemort grinned maliciously and accepted the vial, downing it in one, making Hermione cringe. He caught her eyes with a smirk, her blood painting his teeth a deep crimson.

"Let us move on, my friends, to the next act of our show." Wolf whistles filled the room as Voldemort looked Hermione up and down sickeningly, stepping forward to lift her bleeding wrist to his mouth, sucking softly before trailing his lips over the throbbing wound.

"And doesn't she look ravishing?" he growled repulsively and Hermione felt that bile creeping back up as he turned and waved his wand, the high chair disappearing to be replaced by a black marble altar.

She shuddered at the image. Oh, gods, she was supposed to do it here in front of everyone…

Voldemort turned to her and any thought of being able to escape was vanquished as he rubbed his thumb possessively over her stinging wrist, smearing red.

"Come, my dear. Let us tarry no longer."

Panic struck Hermione like lightning and she watched helplessly as her hand fell into his, watched herself being pulled to the altar, heard the excited voices behind her, saw the terrifying red of his eyes as he looked her over.

The world seemed to move in slow motion and Hermione could feel her heart pounding in her chest, the blood rushing through her veins, every ache and pain in her tortured body magnified as panic gripped her. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Hundreds of eyes were upon her, there was no way she could reach for her coin without a barrage of Killing Curses battering her first. Voldemort kept a tight grip on her, preventing her from Apparating lest she take him with her. There was no way she could get far enough away from him without being killed a hundred times over.

And as soon as he made to place the damn thing in her he would know she had lied and she would be murdered on the spot…

 _Think, Hermione!_ she begged her exhausted brain as she stumbled forward, her aching legs quaking beneath her weight. How could she get herself out of this? What did she need?

 _A diversion,_ she surmised, biting back a whimper of pain as Voldemort's grip tightened on her steadily bleeding wrist, his eyes roving hungrily over her. She needed to draw his lecherous attention away from her long enough to get away.

She jerked when he pressed her back against the altar, forcing her to sit upon it, her weak body protesting as she scrambled up. Hermione used the act of scooting back to try to dislodge him but he kept a steely grip on her as if he was waiting for her to try and run. His eyes bore into her and she knew he could sense her fear.

"No need to be nervous, my queen," he murmured, one long finger skimming along her jaw line. Horrified, she recognized the look he gave her as one she attributed to Blaise: one of possession - of sick, perverted desire. "It will all be over soon and you will be prized above all others. I will cherish you as I have no one before."

Hermione nodded absently and forced herself to be calm, to be patient. She could do this. She only had one shot, she had to time this just right... She fought the urge to run now, knowing that if she failed to properly divert him he would catch her and kill her instantly.

He pushed her until she was lying on her back, her feet facing the roaring crowd. She wondered vaguely how Lucius felt about the proceedings and a hysterical bubble of laughter rose inside her and she had to tamper it down as ridiculous thoughts flew across her terrified mind.

Why hadn't he undressed her yet? Was he a virgin? Surely not...but then again, had he ever been human enough to have needs like the rest of them? How long would he last? Was he well endowed? Would he hurt her on purpose to prove his dominance?

She began to shake as he climbed on top of her, pressing her legs apart and easing her dress robes up to her hips, her cheeks flaring as she was exposed to the crowd beyond. With a quick wave, her lacy knickers disappeared. She expected him to take her then, but he simply reached down inside his robes and Hermione looked away in horror. She waited, breathless, until he took his hand off her arm to balance himself on the edge of the altar while he prepared himself, little grunts of pleasure puffing from between his tightly pressed lips. She swallowed back her revulsion as he stroked himself, his movements quickening, his hips bucking slightly, his eyes closing in concentration.

It had to be now, while he was preoccupied, while he wasn't touching her…

With the tiniest movements possible, she felt for the wand in her dress. He was too close, there was no way he wouldn't feel her pulling it out. The only option was to strike quickly.

Hermione acted, lifting her feet to catch him in the chest, kicking out as hard as she could. He was propelled back off the altar with a cry but she didn't wait to see him hit the ground. Before her feet left his torso she had her wand in hand and she aimed for the sea of black.

 _"Incendio!"_ she screamed and a wall of fire rose up, blocking her from view. The eager screams changed to ones of terror and pain as flames roared in the pit of Death Eaters, engulfing them. Voldemort whipped around furiously from the floor and she took the opportunity, diving off the altar and Apparating in mid-air as the air blazed green.

.

.

.

A/N: _Meum sanguinem, corpus meum est autem tuum:_ my blood, my body is yours.

 _Sicut servus humilem tuus, ego do tibi virgo:_ As your humble servant, I give you this virgin.

CatwinWo: Happy moving! I know how stressful that can be. Hopefully this can ease some of your tension :) And yes, they are quite the randy pair, who doesn't want to be wanted like that?! The darkness and here and continues to grow. Hope you enjoyed her mission!

Perditrix: Yes, this is definitely my sweetest Draco. I think he needs to be in order for them to survive. Hope this was interesting enough for you!

AuraAuthor: Still worried? ;)

BoredRavenclaw620: Yes, thank Merlin for intelligent Hermione! She's always here to save the day :)

XOXO

RynStar15


	16. Invenire Salutis

Hermione landed on all fours in mud, her heart pounding, her entire body quaking. Rain poured in torrents onto her and she looked up into the dark sky, fear melting to hysterical relief. She stared at the expanse of sodden field before her, all of it familiar and yet alien at the same time. Where she knew there should be a charming house was only flooded grass.

Had she gone to the right place? Where was Draco? He said he'd meet her, hadn't he?

Hermione cried out as her left arm burned like fire and she clutched it instinctively. On a sob, she moved her hand away to stare down at the Dark Mark branded there for the first time. The sight made her stomach heave and she tugged the silver sleeve over the treacherous stain, her hands shaking so hard that she nearly ripped the sopping silk, her blood smearing from the wound Bellatrix had inflicted.

She felt a tug around her navel, an urge to leave, to find her master. It felt as if he were right beside her, pulling her towards him. She quavered in fear at the sensation. She didn't have much time, they would come for her, find her, drag her back, kill her…

She stared out at the barren fields around her, the torrential downpour making it difficult to see. Where was Draco? Where were the Order members? Had something happened to them? Hermione shook so hard it hurt as she twisted on the spot, searching for anything, anyone.

A clap of thunder snapped through her body, sending her heart racing. She clutched her chest as if to still it, her eyes searching through the sheets of rain when she felt it - the Malfoy pendant. Hot rage boiled through her and she yanked off the offending jewelry, snapping the ribbon, and threw it as if it had bit her.

The Death Eaters would be here any minute, she knew it with a certainty she couldn't explain. She could feel him, feel his ire, his desperation, his eyes upon her as if he were looking through the sky towards her.

With a terrified sob Hermione lunged forward to where her sanctuary should be, not knowing what else to do. Voldemort's cold, cruel laugh rang in her ears, taunting her. He was coming…

Where was Draco? She couldn't get across the barrier without him; she couldn't even see the house! Where was he?

"Draco!" she screamed hysterically into the night, the rain swallowing up her hoarse cry. _"Draco!_ Draco, please!"

Mud sucked at her feet, still strapped in the heels Pansy had put her in. Her ankle twisted beneath her and she cried out in pain and frustration as she tumbled to the ground, her tortured body throbbing in agony. She twisted around, ripping the shoes off and leaving them in the muck before launching back to her feet, ignoring her protesting body, never slowing. Hermione snatched up the hem of her dress after she tripped over it and ran harder, her agonized body faltering, the mire sucking at her like quicksand, pulling her back.

"Draco!" she shrieked again, spinning around, eyes scouring the blackened hills. He had promised, he said he would be here…was she in the right place? The rain was so thick it was hard to see, the night so dark it was impenetrable. No one would ever find her out here in this storm, not unless they were staring right at her...

Shivering, she tried to assess her surroundings. Should she get away from here, go on the run? Would Voldemort find her? Would Draco come looking for her? What if they had found out, captured him, killed him? Hermione stumbled at the thought, catching herself and pushing forward, a strike of lightning illuminating the saturated land.

And then he was there, a hundred yards from her, running flat out, his bright blonde hair plastered to his head, screaming her name.

Hermione sprinted straight into his arms, hitting his chest like a brick wall. She clung to him, sobbing, grasping at any piece of him she could find as her knees gave out and he fell with her, kneeling in the mud, clutching her as if she might fly away. Draco yanked her face up to his, kissing her hard over and over, diving into her mouth to breathe life back into her. She pulled away minutely to look up at him, to ensure he was real, relief flooding her and making her weak.

"You s-said you'd be here, you said-" Hermione blabbered incomprehensibly, her mind numb with relief and shock and fear as the rain drove down at them, the roar of thunder rolling in the distance.

"I know, I know, I'm so sorry, the rain...I'm here, I'm here now, you're safe," he assured her, kissing her again before drawing her back into his arms, holding her tight. She could hear shouts beyond them and she jerked with fear before recognizing their voices as Order members.

"He's coming," she sobbed, clinging to him weakly as Lupin shouted instructions. "They're coming, they're coming for me-"

"I've got you Hermione, I've got you, they can't touch you anymore," Draco swore, holding her tighter. The images of the night were washing over her, stealing her breath, the burning on her arm ripping through her even as he adjusted her in his arms.

"I was so scared, Draco," she cried, burying her face in his neck, needing the reassurance that she was no longer on the brink of death. "Just hold me, please just hold me-"

"I am, I'm holding you, I'm here. But we need to get inside. Hang onto me, alright? Just hang on."

He lifted her into his arms as if she weighed no more than a doll and she clung tightly to him as he jogged with her through the wind and rain, the sounds of footsteps and voices surrounding them, letting her know that she was guarded, protected.

"Is she alright?" came an achingly familiar voice, making Hermione whimper against Draco.

"I don't know, we need to get her inside," Draco replied tersely, his chest rumbling beneath her ear. He was so warm compared to the intense cold she felt, so strong to her weakness.

Hermione felt a shimmer and knew they had crossed the barrier. But how could they have? She was a Death Eater…Death Eaters couldn't get in…

As they made their way into the bustling kitchen heat stole over her along with bright light and voices and smells of home and food.

 _Oh, gods, food._ Her roiling stomach objected to the smell along with the striking pain that was creeping up as the adrenaline wore off and the horror of what she'd done made itself known.

She swallowed back the bile over and over and heard Draco shout for a bowl, heard Mrs. Weasley urge him to set her down on the sofa which she tumbled off instantly to empty the contents of her stomach into a pot on the floor, shuddering harshly as dry heaves wracked through her body while Draco held her up and swept back her hair.

"There you are, dear," Mrs. Weasley said kindly, pressing a wet washcloth into her hand as the heaves lessened. "Get it all up, you'll feel better."

When her stomach finally settled Hermione sagged against Draco. She took a proffered glass of water from Mrs. Weasley, dropping it instantly onto the floor, her quaking hands too weak to hold it up.

"Sorry," she croaked as Draco cursed harshly, yanking up her bloody forearm. Mrs. Weasley gasped. Hermione wanted to reassure her, let her know that it was fine, but her exhausted body was quickly giving up on her.

"Don't you worry about a thing dear, you're alright now," the older woman crooned, cleaning the sick out of the bowl with a wave of her wand, kneeling next to her to assess the damage, but Draco took charge, turning her gently in his arms to gaze down at her. He swore again.

"She's been tortured," he growled, his eyes darkening as he looked down at her. "She needs potions - Numbing, Pain, Strengthening, Blood-Replenishing-"

"How the hell do you know-"

"How do you think I know?" Draco snapped up at Harry who she just now realized was one of many standing around the crowded room. "Do you see how much she's shaking? She's in shock, she needs her magical and physical energies restored. She's lost blood, more than this wound should have caused. Hermione, look at me, what all did they do?"

His gaze was frantic, his eyes wild as he assessed her. Hermione wanted to tell him, to explain that he was overreacting, but nothing more than a weak grunt escaped her lips, her eyelids suddenly leaden...

"Don't you dare pass out on me now!" Draco cried, shaking her slightly. "Dammit, someone help me!"

"Here!" Tonks called from behind Draco's shoulder, skidding to a halt beside them, her edges fuzzy. "This is all I could find in the cupboard-"

Draco snatched one from her fist and tugged the stopper out with his teeth, holding it to Hermione's lips. She drank obligingly, not caring what it was, instantly feeling the effects of a Calming Draught. She slumped heavier into Draco's arms and he cursed.

"Strengthening, NOW!"

Another vial was shoved against her lips and she choked on the burning liquid. As the coughing abated she could feel energy returning to her, the lethargy fading away. The pain began to double, but with the Calming Draught she couldn't get herself to care.

"Do you have a Pain Potion, anything-"

"Ronald, upstairs in our bathroom, quickly-"

Hermione heard footsteps pounding up the staircase as Mrs. Weasley turned her wand on Hermione to run several diagnostic tests while Draco panted above her, nervously running his hands over her, trembling harder than she now that she'd been sedated, though thanks to the second potion she no longer felt as if she might pass out.

"Is she-" Draco's voice cracked and he had to swallow harshly to continue. "Did he-"

Mrs. Weasley met her eyes for the first time, the kindness and concern so calming and familiar. Then she turned to Draco and smiled softly.

"No, I don't believe so."

Draco let out a shuddering sigh, dropping his head into the crux of her shoulder.

"Thanks the gods," he murmured. "You brilliant witch..."

Hermione grabbed the fingers which were digging into her arm, squeezing them comfortingly, moved by his concern.

"Will she be alright?" he croaked, looking up at Mrs. Weasley, his eyes bright. "Can you tell? How much did they-?"

Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips and looked pityingly at Hermione. "I'll have Poppy brew something up for her. You were right, she's been through the mill. But I don't believe there will be any lasting damage."

Draco nodded as Mrs. Weasley turned to the laceration on her wrist and Ron bounded into the room.

"Here mum, I brought everything, I didn't know what you might..."

"Thank you dear, you can set it next to me. Why don't you get some tea started? We're in for a long evening. Leon, I mean, Draco? Could you take her upstairs to the bathroom on the second floor? We'll get her cleaned up."

"Wait, isn't she going to tell us about what happened?" Hermione heard Ron say as Draco lifted her once more, cradling her gently against his strong chest.

"That can very well wait until she has been taken care of, Ronald!" Mrs. Weasley snapped as Draco carted her into the blessed dark of the stairwell.

"Not if they're going to come tearing in here at any minute!"

"Ron, your mother's right," Hermione heard Mr. Weasley's voice say lowly. "You have no idea what she has been through tonight."

Hermione clung tighter to Draco as she tried to push back the images that threatened to shove forth past the medication. She was safe, it was over. She had the Dark Mark, she hadn't gotten the Arcavi, nor had she broken their cover. She was alive; their mission could continue.

She let Draco and Mrs. Weasley take charge as a numb sort of cloud fogged her brain and her mind and body felt thick and useless. She was shivering so hard her hands wouldn't work so Mrs. Weasley removed the gown and Draco cursed at the sight of her corset.

"Dear, maybe you should step out-" Mrs. Weasley started but Draco simply raised his wand and slit the corset down the middle with a _Diffindo,_ yanking her out of the painful fabric. Blood rushed to her head so fast her world went black and her knees buckled. Draco caught her before she hit the floor and heaved her back into his arms as Mr. Weasley peeled off the rest of her clothing.

She was settled in a hot tub of water and cried out in the pain from her body which had been freezing, unnoticed by her. Mrs. Weasley scrubbed her clean, checking her once more for injuries. Hermione hissed when the older woman probed her right ankle, but it was the only outward damage along with her healed wrist. Everything else was internal, her body simply burning in pain until another potion was pressed upon her. Relief swept through her, cool and greatly appreciated.

When the Weasley matriarch ceased her ministrations, Hermione leaned back against the porcelain, closed her eyes, and tried to still the trembling that still wracked through her body. Aware that Mrs. Weasley and Draco were waiting for her to say something, she turned to them and gave them a wan smile.

"I'm alright," she said hoarsely, her throat abraded from her constant screaming. "Thank you for everything."

"Not at all dear," Mrs. Weasley warbled, unfolding and refolding a towel in her hands anxiously.

"Do you think I could have a few minutes?" she asked quietly, not meeting Draco's hard gaze.

"Of course," the older woman said, her eyes watery. "We'll be right downstairs. Give a holler if you need anything at all."

"Thank you."

Mrs. Weasley bustled out but Draco didn't move a muscle, his eyes boring into her. Hermione tried to give him a reassuring smile, knowing her breakdown had unnerved him.

"I'm alright," she reassured him. "Just a little bit shook up. I'll be down in a few minutes."

He looked like he wanted to argue, his knuckles white where he clenched the doorjamb. But finally he strode out and she listened to his heavy footfalls all the way down into the living room and the rumble of his deep voice as he reported on her status.

She listened to the different tones of their voices, the angry one of Ron's, the nervous one of Ginny's, the concerned one of Mrs. Weasley's, the calming one of Mr. Weasley's. She squeezed her eyes shut on a whimper as her forearm burned angrily and she clutched it to her chest, steeling herself.

When she finally looked down at the brand she felt a quiver of fear deep in her belly. She was officially one of them. The terrifying image of the snake slithering out of the skull's mouth was now a part of her, a reminder of what she was in this for.

She ran one slightly wrinkled finger over the Mark, felt the heat emanating from it. There was a sense of power there, the jolt of it unsettling. She wanted to scratch at it, to dig it off, to cast it away.

Clenching her fists into balls she stood and let the hot water cascade off her. She grabbed the soft towel sitting at the edge of the bath and dried herself roughly, scrubbing off every touch and scent from the night until her skin was red and raw.

Wiping the condensation off the mirror with her hand, Hermione stared at herself. Most of the makeup had been gently removed by Mrs. Weasley but a stain of red lipstick still ghosted her lips and the black mascara had left dark smudges under her eyes. So she scrubbed this too until any remnants of the evening were gone and she stood there naked, a skinny girl of no real beauty with mud colored eyes, too thick hair, and a brand of evil. It was surreal that the only person who saw this image was Draco; the rest saw a lovely Malfoy heir. It made it easier, almost, to know it wasn't really her they saw with the Mark, but Valouris Malfoy. Maybe she should stay this way, not take the potion, so her friends never had to see what she did...

Knowing she could over-think this until she was ill again, Hermione grabbed the nightgown Mrs. Weasley had provided and tugged it on, wrapping a robe over it. She glanced at the silver gown crumpled on the floor, the corset her ribs were even now lamenting shredded beside it.

Grabbing her wand off the counter where someone had put it, she used the tip of it to pick up the gown and threw it in the now empty bathtub, hooking the undergarments and shoes in along with it.

 _"Incendio!"_ she muttered for the second time that evening and watched as the whole lot of it burst into flames, continued watching until the flames died down and there was nothing left but a black scorch mark on the porcelain tub.

Hermione made her reluctant way down to the living room, aware that every eye was watching her closely as if she might have a fit or something. She sank into an empty armchair and turned to them all.

"I suppose you want to know what happened tonight?" she asked softly. Ron snorted and Harry cuffed him upside the head. Mr. Weasley, however, leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees.

"Yes, we need to know what happened."

So Hermione told them everything; everything she could remember hearing or seeing, everything she felt and did, all of her thoughts and observations. She spared no detail, explaining her ordeal monotonously. By the end of it, Mrs. Weasley was wringing a handkerchief into submission, Ron's mouth was hanging open, Ginny was staring at her wide-eyed, and Harry and Draco were like statues. Mr. Weasley cleared his throat, stabbing into the eerie silence like a knife.

"And, er, you're certain they are still unaware you are not Valouris?" he asked, removing his horn-rimmed glassed and wiping them unnecessarily on his robes.

"They gave no indication they were aware of the change," she replied gravelly, her throat still raw.

"And your, er, Mark…you said it was burning just after you arrived here?" Hermione nodded. "Does it burn now?"

Hermione looked down at her covered arm. "It's hot, but not like before."

"He was calling you," Draco explained, everyone's heads snapping to look at where he brooded against the wall, set apart from the rest of them. "He was trying to bring you back."

Hermione nodded. It was as she had figured.

"I don't mean to be rude or anything," Ginny piped up, glancing at her parents apologetically. "But if You-Know-Who was trying to, well, do _you-know-what_ with you, why wouldn't he have, er, un-dressed you or anything?"

"I was wondering the same thing," Hermione admitted in a small voice, her gaze stuck on the hands in her lap, her cheeks reddening at the memory.

The room was quiet for a moment before Lupin spoke up. "I don't believe this was a, er, _sexual_ arrangement. I don't think he wanted to do any more than was necessary to deposit the Arcavi in Valouris."

It made sense, she supposed, and she was more than thankful for the way it had all turned out.

"Did you really set a bunch of Death Eaters on fire?" Ron blurted suddenly. Hermione looked up at him sheepishly and nodded. "Brilliant!"

"Ron!" Mrs. Weasley snapped, but a smile tugged at Hermione's lips at her friend's exclamation. She'd missed him something terrible and it was comforting to hear he hadn't changed.

"What?" Ron grumbled.

"Do you think Voldemort could make another one?" Harry asked next to his sullen friend.

"I suppose it certainly is possible if he can find a suitable candidate," Mr. Weasley sighed.

"Then we'll just have to make sure he doesn't find one," Harry said darkly. "We already had to find all those fucking Horcruxes, I can't fathom having to hunt down these Arcavi things."

"In a few weeks we won't have to worry about that," Draco said. "As soon as we go back we'll get the plan in motion. With any luck, the Dark Lord will be dead within a fortnight."

"And what exactly is-"

"How was I able to cross your barriers?" Hermione asked suddenly to the room at large, cutting off the conversation she had been hard-pressed to follow. Her eyes finally settled on a harried looking Mrs. Weasley.

"We have temporarily disarmed any ward that would, well, not allow someone with…to, to cross over…" she explained haltingly. Hermione had known something like that had to have been done, but it was like a punch to the chest to realize their vulnerability.

"You can't do this, not for me," Hermione said, a prickly sense of danger creeping over her skin and she jolted up as if her seat had electrocuted her. "It's too dangerous, especially now when they'll be looking for me. It was very gracious of you to open your home to me, but I can't stay here-"

"Stop it, Hermione," Draco snapped harshly, striding to her. "You're not going anywhere."

"I can't stay here and put everyone at risk like this!" Hermione cried rounding on him, anger such as she had hardly felt before spurring her. She didn't know what had caused this sudden outburst, but she felt the truth within every fiber of her being. She had to leave, now.

"Don't be silly, dear!" Mrs. Weasley crooned. "Of course you'll stay, it's the safest place!"

"And these four will be going back to Hogwarts," Mr. Weasley said, rising slowly, nodding to Ron, Harry Draco and Ginny. "It will only be me and Molly here and we have agreed to this. You needn't worry, we are still very well protected. And while you are here there will be extra security."

"It's only for a week," Draco reminded her, moving to put a soothing hand on her shoulder but she shrugged it off, shaking her head.

"You said he can track me," Hermione said anxiously, shuddering at the thought of a swarm of Death Eaters surrounding the Burrow, possibly killing Mr. and Mrs. Weasley to get at her…

"Not with the protections they have in place," Draco reassured her, his eyes wide as he watched her, strategically placed between her and the door. "It's going to be fine."

"Of course it will," Mrs. Weasley agreed bracingly. "Now, why don't we all have a spot of hot chocolate before bed?"

"I'll have to get a rain check on that, Molly," Lupin said, grabbing a cloak that was draped over the back of the couch. Hermione knew they were just trying to steer the conversation away from her apprehension. "I need to give everyone a report on all of this. Tonks, you will be stationed out back." He clapped Harry on the shoulder and nodded to Hermione and Draco before taking his leave with a kiss to his wife who followed him into the night.

Mrs. Weasley dragged Ginny into the kitchen to help her prepare the hot chocolate as Hermione shuffled nervously, hugging herself against the sudden chill she felt. She was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to lay down and sleep for a dozen hours, but her fear had her rooted to the spot, Draco still hovering vigilantly. Mr. Weasley cleared his throat and rose to check on their patrol for the night, leaving the four teenagers alone.

Ron, Harry, and Draco all stared at her for a few moments until Ron broke the tension.

"Can I see it?"

Harry smacked him on the back of the head again. _"Ow!_ What? How do we know she's not lying about the whole thing?"

"I saw it," Draco growled beside her. She could feel his rage emanating from him in waves. Ron snorted.

"Because your opinion matters," he snarled. "We don't even know you."

"Fine, if you don't trust me then ask your mother," Draco replied, his voice wavering with barely-repressed ire.

"Now that you're both Death Eater scum, you likely Confunded her!"

"Come off it, Ron!" Harry snapped. "After everything Mal-er, Hermione, just went through and you still don't trust them?"

"She's a _Malfoy,_ Harry!"

"She's a Granger, you dim-witted ponce!" Draco growled, his hand coming to her back when she began to shake.

"That's what you say and of course you're going to defend her when you're bending her over every flat surface!"

"THAT IS QUITE ENOUGH!" Mrs. Weasley roared, slamming in from the kitchen. "Ronald Bilius Weasley, what on earth has gotten into you?"

"How do we know they aren't going to sell us out to You-Know-Who?" he bellowed, shooting to his feet, his face red. "How do we know they are so fucking good?"

"You watch your tongue!" Mrs. Weasley admonished, wagging her finger. "How could you turn your back on your friends?"

"They are _not_ my friends!" he screamed. "They're imposters! They can't be trusted! We don't even know them! I don't know how they got all of you wrapped around their fu-fingers, but I'm not just going to roll over and let them ruin everything we've been working towards!"

"If the rest of us trust them then it should be enough for you!" Ginny yelled from behind her mother.

"How can you say that?" Ron screamed. "She's going to be staying here with our _parents,_ Ginny! How do you know she won't murder them in their sleep?"

His sister paled and Mrs. Weasley turned to the rest of them, cutting off Ginny's reply. "Harry, Leon, back to school with you. Ginny, please show Hermione to your room. I need a word with my _son."_

Hermione was more than happy to be excused from the skirmish, hating the way Ginny and Harry looked at her as if they were now plagued with the same worries as Ron. Harry nodded grimly to them and turned to the kitchen but Draco grabbed her elbow instead of following and led her to the stairs behind Ginny, the sounds of Mrs. Weasley's yells echoing behind them.

"This is my room," Ginny said kindly to Hermione, looking nervously up at Draco. "I changed the sheets before you came and there's a bath just down the hall…"

"Thank you," Hermione smiled warily at her, missing the easy connection the ginger and she usually shared.

Ginny bid her goodnight with one last look to Draco who opened the door to her room and dragged Hermione inside. He quickly locked and Silenced the room out of habit while Hermione moved to light the lamp on the bedside table.

She stood nervously by the bed, her eyes on a picture of Harry twirling Ginny in a circle at Bill and Fleur's wedding, both their faces lit with carefree joy. She felt a longing sense of melancholy at the ordinary image, remembering vividly how it had felt to be in Ron's arms that sultry summer evening. It marked the beginning of the end of their childhood. Less than an hour after this picture had been taken Death Eaters had torn apart the happy scene. They'd run and she felt like they hadn't stopped since.

Now she was one of them, a Death Eater. She'd joined their ranks to protect the boy behind her and to put an end to this war. So much had changed since that day and Hermione wondered if she could ever go back to that happy time.

Neither of them moved, the weight of the night pressing in on them, a heavy shroud of the events of the evening hanging over them. She didn't know what to say to Draco and she didn't want to see the look of pity she knew would be on his face if she turned around, so she stood stock-still, waiting.

And then he was suddenly upon her, sweeping her up and kissing her harshly with an underlying desperation. She felt his hands tremble when they dragged her against him, his fingers digging in as his mouth worked her, coaxing her into submission. Hermione tugged him closer, needing his touch, his reassurance, and he groaned softly.

"Gods, Hermione…" He closed his eyes and laid his forehead against hers and they just held each other, neither saying a word, neither having to. Breathing in the scent of him, Hermione ran her hands up his sides and settled them on his chest where she could feel his strong heart throbbing beneath her palms. His long fingers squeezed her upper arms and she heard him suck in a shuddering breath.

She could remember with excruciating clarity laying on black marble, her body all but lifeless. She could remember the fear of that being her last moment on earth. She could remember the pain, could still feel the remnants of it. And she swore she would endure it a thousand thousand times again for this single moment in his arms.

"Stay with me tonight," Hermione whispered, not wanting to be alone, not wanting to give up what she had worked so hard for just yet.

Silently, he scooped her up and placed her gently on the bed, laying next to her and pulling her into his arms. She felt the blankets rise up and over them and Hermione snuggled into the warmth and security, finally feeling safe. She wished she could express her gratitude, but exhaustion was stealing over her as the adrenaline waned and she couldn't find the words anyway.

She hissed when her arm burned again, a frightened shudder rushing through her as she clutched at the appendage. Draco said nothing, only held her tighter, soothing the trembling with one hand, the other covering hers on her Mark, an unspoken reassurance that she didn't have to face this alone.

She turned her mind to the feel of his arms, the sound of the rain lashing against the window, the smell of the laundry soap Mrs. Weasley always used, and let these comforting familiarities lull her to sleep.

.

.

.

A/N: Apologies once more for the delay, so much going on! Now that we're all safe and sound nothing can go wrong, right?

nanny922: Thank you so much! And I do love my cliffhangers ;)

AuraAuthor: It's probably for the best, these two definitely have a knack for getting themselves into trouble.

BoredRavenclaw620: Lol, I'm glad you enjoyed the action! A little slower this chapter, but don't worry, things will speed up right quick!

lovestorylover2000: Hopefully this chapter cleared some things up. No, they did not have sex, he was "preparing" himself when she was able to kick him off her.

Perditrix: Ah, our loathsome Voldy. Yes, must have him along, he makes everything so dangerous and difficult! Glad you enjoyed it!

LissaDream: Shall I get you a Calming Draught as well? :P

CatwinWo: Always cliffies! Except this chapter, I suppose, but it was an essential transition. Calm before the storm, one might say...

XOXO

RynStar15


	17. Ubi Magistrum Vocat

Hermione slept through breakfast and straight into lunchtime until Mrs. Weasley stirred her softly, urging her to eat. She did so mechanically, hardly tasting what she was sure was a delicious bacon sandwich. Draco had left at some point while she'd slept and she felt an ache of loneliness.

Picking at the meager remainder of her meal, Hermione began dissecting the events of the night previous. She tried to recall the Latin verbiage used for the incantation, wondering what she'd been forced to say, what she'd pledged herself to. She felt the dull throb on her arm but pointedly refused to look at it. She knew she should see it as a source of pride, the knowledge that there was nothing she wouldn't do for this war. But right now, the thought of it simply made her ill and terrifying memories lingered at the edges of her mind, waiting to break free and overcome her. She stubbornly willed them back, knowing it would do no good to dwell. What was done was done, they could only move forward from here.

She was just about to lay back down when her door opened and Draco strode in, making Hermione's brow furrow.

"I thought you went back to school?"

"Potter and Weasley went to Hagrid's so I thought I'd swing by, see how you were doing..."

"Oh." Eager to steer him away from a conversation about her mental well-being, she thought of something, mentally slapping herself for forgetting. "You know, I never did wish you a happy birthday yesterday."

He shrugged, looking away sheepishly. "Doesn't matter."

"Of course it does!" she cried, latching onto that small glimmer of normality. "I'm sorry I didn't say anything yesterday, I've been so selfish lately - thinking about the mission and all, it just slipped my mind. I got you something a while back, it's in my bag, hang on-"

"You shouldn't have gotten me anything," he muttered, sounding embarrassed.

"Don't be silly," she chided half-mindedly as she searched through the bag someone had placed at the foot of her bed before she'd arrived. Finding the neatly wrapped package she'd brought with her from their world, she handed it to Draco who was now sitting on her bed. "Go on, open it."

After a slight hesitation he slit open the gold wrapping on one side and pulled out the handsome ebony box. Hermione sat beside him and gestured to the dragon clasp.

"You see, your name means 'dragon' and this made me think of you," she told him softly as he drew his fingers over the intricate lock. "It will only open to your touch. Go on."

Glancing at her, he pressed the lock with the pad of his thumb and it released it with a soft click. Lifting the lid, he picked up the small box inside, quirking an eyebrow at her. Opening this box as well, he pulled out a black stone attached to a leather cord.

"It's a Seeking Stone," Hermione explained as he turned the polished pendant in his hand. "When you're lost or trying to find something you can use this. It will help you find what you're looking for. But you can only use it once, so make sure you use it wisely."

"Hermione…these are really rare," he said, turning to her. She blushed shyly, not mentioning she'd all but cleaned her inheritance vaults to pay for it.

"I wanted it to be a token, something meaningful," she explained, not able to meet his eye. "You've been trying to find yourself for so long and after everything you've been through, you've finally found who you wanted to be. You didn't have to come to us and join our side, but you realized that it was what you wanted in the end. I hoped this would be a reminder that...that you're not lost anymore."

She saw something pass in his gaze and there was a tense moment of silence before he lifted his hand to her cheek.

"Thank you," he said hoarsely, his eyes bright. Hermione cleared her throat to dispel the intense moment.

"Turn around, I'll put it on you," she urged. He handed her the necklace and turned away from her so she could drape it around his neck. She tied it into place and remembered how Narcissa had done the same to her just last night. Her trembling hands dropped the knot she'd made and she backed away from Draco, fists clenching to still the nervous tremor.

"There's one more thing I want to give you."

"Hermione, this is more than enough," he protested, turning to her. She shook her head.

"It's not a present or anything, but I think you should have it." Grabbing her wand from the bedside table, she shoved open the window looking out over the muddy hill she'd scrambled down last night. Had it only been last night? It felt like an eternity…

 _"Accio pendant!"_

She watched the necklace zoom to her through the midday drizzle and caught it with her left hand. It was spotless - as if it had spent the night in its case rather than the muddy fields. Holding back the memory of its reception, Hermione held it out to Draco and he stood, taking it, his jaw hardening in recognition.

"This was my mother's," he murmured quietly, fingering the intricate whorls. "She was keeping it for my wife. It's heavily enchanted, it can only be worn by a Malfoy. It will curse anyone else who tries to put it on. Looks as though our potion worked well, didn't it?"

Hermione didn't know what to say so she stood quietly and watched the emotions play across his face. It was so rare to see any kind of feeling pass across his heavily guarded countenance that she soaked in the moment, not knowing how to feel. It was obvious the necklace meant a lot to him.

Draco stared at the pendant for a few moments longer before placing it in the case she had given him and closing the lid with a snap.

"I came to see how you were doing," he said, clearly wishing to change the subject.

"I'm fine."

"Liar."

She didn't argue. "I'll be fine."

She could see a haunted dread in his eyes and ached to soothe him as he had her the night before. When she saw him glance at the box where she knew the pendant lie, she realized the source of his anxiety and reprimanded herself for not reassuring him sooner.

"Your mother is safe. They didn't make me kill her."

His eyes widened in disbelief. "But…I thought…to get the Mark you had to-"

"I think, considering the other plans for Valouris, they let this one slide. Apparently your parents' sacrifice on this side was enough to absolve them."

She could see the relief wash over him before his expression changed, darkened. He crossed the short distance between them and cupped her cheek, caressing the evidence of her exhaustion beneath her eyes softly, seeming to understand the price she paid.

"I don't know what I would do with myself if anything had happened to you last night," he murmured, his voice gruff, as if the words caused him pain to utter. "Every moment you were gone was complete agony. I don't know how I'm ever supposed to let you go through something like that again. How do you expect me to just stand aside again after the horror I saw in your eyes last night? How am I supposed to live with myself knowing what you're going through while I sit on the sidelines, safe and sound?"

"Because it's what we have to do, Draco," she cajoled in an attempt to soothe him. "I made it through last night. I'll make it through every night after. I won't stop until he's gone."

Leaning his forehead against hers, he sighed. "I don't know how you do it."

She looked into his eyes, searching for a sign, for any hint that he felt the same.

"Don't you?" she breathed.

She watched the words transform his face, as if he were imploring what she implied to be true. Her heart skipped a beat and she suddenly felt very hot. Was it possible that he felt the same?

"Hermione-"

 _"Argh!"_ she cried out suddenly, her arm seeming to have caught fire, her blood suddenly like lava in her veins. Grasping the inflamed Mark she yanked away from him, turning so that he wouldn't see her face screw up in pain, not only from the burning Mark, but from disappointment. How could he ever love her when this would always be between them? Something that would forever remind him of the life he tried so hard to escape? One that was destined to tear them apart? How could he ever feel anything but revulsion when he looked upon her? She was one of them now. Nothing she did could erase that. How could she possibly ask him to see passed it?

She heard him move behind her and stiffened as he approached. His arms came around her and she longed to sink into them but kept her resolve. This was a mistake. She was being selfish. Of course he didn't love her. It was probably pure torture for him not to recoil at her touch. He was simply doing his duty, just as she was. She was here to get the Mark, he was here to protect and comfort her. Nothing more, nothing less.

Hermione jumped when Draco took her left arm and pulled it out of her steely grip, drawing the sleeve of her gown up. She could feel the tension in his body as he drew the pad of his thumb over the blazing line of her Mark. "It doesn't mean anything, Hermione. We know who you are. They can't touch you where it really matters."

She swallowed, wishing she could believe the words. She knew he was only trying to be kind. "I know."

They were quiet for a moment before she gathered herself enough to step out of his embrace. "You should get back to school, someone will notice you're missing."

Hermione was suddenly curious about whether others had taken note of her absence, whether Blaise had told everyone about Valouris' treachery, but she couldn't bring herself to ask. She was desperate for solitude and thankfully Draco seemed to realize this and took his leave without another word.

The rest of the day was a grueling test of Hermione's tenacity. Mrs. Weasley urged her to join them downstairs for dinner so she plastered a smile on her face and tried to appear pleasant but she could tell everyone knew it was simply an act. Order members bustled in and out, asking her questions, praising her escape. Draco did not return, so she was alone in a sea of well-meaning faces. By the time dessert rolled around she was exhausted from her charade and begged herself off, dashing back up the stairs at Mrs. Weasley's reluctant nod.

She found the peace of her dark room and slipped back into bed. When the door opened she feigned sleep. She could feel eyes upon her but refused to meet them. She knew whoever was on the other side knew she was awake but they said nothing and finally took their leave.

She listened to the others talk downstairs for a long time before exhaustion overtook her and she sank into a fitful slumber.

.

.

.

 _Move._

Fear, urgency, desperation. Scrambling, running, cold floor, rough wood against hands. Go, faster, quickly before-

"Hermione, what the-?"

No, can't be caught, _move,_ steps flying up, stomach churning.

"Hermione!"

Can't stop, faster, cold wind, pounding rain, mud between toes. Move, quickly, go-

"Hermione, stop! _STOP!"_

NO! Don't stop, must get away, get back to Him, must go, quickly-

"Hermione, stop! Listen to me-"

Rough fingers tight against forearm. Fight, have to fight, have to go, can't be stopped.

Pain lancing through fists, hitting something hard. Grip loosened, move, _now-_

Almost there, don't stop, can't stop-

Breath rushing out, every bone jarring, mud soaking. Fight, get away, nails, hands, feet, GO-

 _Smack!_

Disoriented... Shake it off...shake _what_ off?

Go, have to go...but why...?

 _Smack!_

Face stinging, Hermione gasped, blinking into the torrent from above, panting and confused. She felt a vague sense of urgency, as if she were late for class, but for the life of her couldn't remember what she was doing.

"Where am I?" she asked absentmindedly, glancing around her, realizing belatedly that she was lying on her back with Draco on top of her in the Weasley's garden, soaking wet and shaking.

And then her blood ran cold as she looked up at Draco whose lip was bleeding, mud spattered all up his front with long scratches down his neck.

"Draco…I - what-"

Terror swam through her as she racked her brain for some memory of how she had ended up here. She looked toward the property lines, not a meter from her, and back up at Draco who was staring down at her as if she were mad.

"Have you lost your fucking mind?" he roared, the rain dripping off his nose and making the blood on his chin run.

"How did I-? I don't-" Hermione stuttered, bewildered. "I don't - I didn't mean to - I don't know how-"

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" he screamed, anger radiating from every inch of toned muscle.

"I don't know! I don't know what happened! _What happened?"_ she begged, terrified and confused. She didn't understand…how did she get here? Why was he so angry?

Her Mark blazed hotter and she twisted her searing wrist out of his steely grip to pull back the sleeve of her now mud-drenched gown. The Mark burned black, standing out in horrible contrast to her white skin. The Mark…it had hurt…she remembered feeling…anxious. She was late…she had to get to Him…to Voldemort. Her eyes caught Draco's as she took in this terrifying realization. "Draco-"

"Wotcher! What's going on over there?" Tonks called, jogging across the lawn, rain bouncing off an Impervious Charm around her as she made her way towards them. Hermione jerked as if she'd been hit with a Stinging Jinx and Draco continued to look at her as if she'd been possessed.

"What the hell is going on?" Draco asked, his voice low, hard. Hermione shook her head, clutching the source of the fire burning through her.

"I don't…I mean, I didn't mean to…H-He was calling me, I didn't realize-"

"Who?"

She swallowed. "Voldemort."

 _"He spoke to you?"_ Draco snapped incredulously, gripping her shoulder as if afraid she might run off again.

"No, not like a voice, just a feeling. I had to go to Him; He was calling for me…" Draco continued to look at her as if she were going 'round the bend and his grip on her tightened.

"Can you hear him now?" She shook her head, swallowing hard. The anger in his features, the fear in his voice, unnerved her more than the realization that she was lying on her back in the mud with no recollection of even leaving her bed.

"Let's get you back inside," he grunted, dragging her to her feet and yanking her forward until she was almost jogging, her bare feet sinking into mud at every step.

"What's going on?" Tonks asked again, catching up to them, her wand aloft, eying Draco's injuries. "Are you two alright?"

"Wake everyone up," Draco snapped, shouldering her aside to heave Hermione into the kitchen. "We need to talk."

He shoved her down into a chair and grabbed her chin roughly, staring into her eyes for a long moment before letting her face go, apparently satisfied. Hermione knew what he was looking for: traces of Voldemort. He wanted to know if she was possessed by him. Terror filled her at the possibility, her hand instantly going to her wrist where he'd drank her blood.

Tonks stared at them incredulously before sprinting upstairs, calling out for an emergency meeting. Hermione wondered just how many Order members had been stationed there since her arrival and why Draco, who should be asleep at Hogwarts, was hovering over her like a bodyguard.

Hermione looked up at him and took in his bloody lip, the scratches and bite marks, the blooming bruises…

"Did I-?"

His lack of answer was confirmation enough.

They only had to wait a minute before Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were tearing into the room behind George and Hestia Jones.

"What on earth is going on?" Mrs. Weasley asked the room at large, then took in the wet and muddy appearance of Hermione and Draco and gasped. "Oh, my dears! Are you alright? What happened?"

It took several minutes to get everyone calmed enough to sit, more Order members bustling in with Tonks. Someone had draped an afghan around Hermione's shivering shoulders as she sat numbly, sickened at the thought of what might have happened if Draco hadn't gotten to her in time…then again, how had he?

Draco began, cutting off her thoughts. He told them all how he'd stationed himself next to her bed as a precaution and accidentally fallen asleep. He'd woken up to her jumping out of bed and explained that she didn't even seem to hear him, how he'd had to follow her out of the house and tackle her to the ground to prevent her from crossing the barriers.

"She was hysterical, going on about how she had to 'get to him' and fighting me. When I slapped her out of it she didn't even seem to remember how she'd gotten there."

"Get to whom?" Mr. Weasley asked, though the paleness of his face was evidence that he already knew.

"Voldemort," Hermione whispered again, watching the group flinch at his name. "He was calling me."

"Wait, he's _talking_ to you now?" George asked incredulously, mimicking Draco's reaction.

"It's not talking," Hermione replied. "More like…a feeling. I just…had to get to Him…"

"And you don't remember how you got outside?" Tonks asked. Hermione shook her head. "When You-Know-Who possessed Ginny she couldn't remember anything she'd done, either. Do you think-?"

"I think it's certainly a possibility he could possess her in some way," Mr. Weasley finished.

"But how?" Bill asked from where he stood next to the kitchen door. "With Ginny, she was tapping into his Horcrux, wasn't she? And with Harry, well, scar and all. Would her Mark make the same connection?"

"It's not the same as possession," Draco said, his knuckles white on the back of her chair. "He can't work through her, the Mark doesn't Imperius you. But to get the Mark you make an oath to do the Dark Lord's bidding. Part of that is going to him when he calls. You can refuse to, you can throw him off. But it's not without consequence. She'll suffer every time she doesn't do exactly as he commands."

"It's not the Mark."

Everyone looked over at her quiet declaration. She looked up at the concerned crowd and took a deep breath.

"The spell, the one he did - started - for the Arcavi," she explained, pulling back her nightgown to reveal the thin white scar from Bellatrix's hand. "He...he drank my blood, sucked it...whatever they were doing worked. We're connected in whatever way was necessary for the reception of the Arcavi."

Draco swore behind her and the rest of the Order looked stricken.

"But...he, he wasn't able to finish...?"

Hermione shook her head to George's question, looking down at her hands in shame. "No, he didn't finish the spell."

"Which, for all intents and purposes, could actually be worse," Bill said, dragging his hand through his long hair.

"What do you mean?" Draco growled. Bill looked up at him with a curious expression.

"All spells want to be finished, curses especially. Have you ever been cut off halfway through a charm and felt that jolt when you didn't finish? This is the same thing, only much more intense with the increased power. This curse to deposit the Arcavi must have been extremely powerful, using blood, potion, spell, and virgin magicks. The combination alone is extraordinary - add in his Dark aura and we're looking at a magic to rival that or the creation of a Horcrux. Something like that isn't meant to go unfinished - their connection needs to be completed."

"And how do you know this?" Draco snapped angrily, but Bill looked up at him patiently.

"I'm a curse-breaker, I've been studying this kind of thing for years, but never have I seen anything to the likes of which Miss Malfoy encountered."

"Granger, " Draco snarled. "Her name is Hermione Granger."

Bill raised his hands apologetically, thankfully able to keep his cool much easier than Draco who was panting in rage. "My apologies. I do believe, however, that we may see increased degrees of desperation from You-Know-Who the longer the connection is not fulfilled. Hermione, as well, will suffer from the bonds of the spell until it's completed. It's likely he will continue to attempt to summon her. He'll wait until she is the most weak and vulnerable-"

"He'll attack while she's asleep..." Hestia surmised, wide-eyed.

Bill nodded. "Exactly-"

"So what, is she never allowed to sleep?" George asked, looking over at her concernedly.

"I don't think we need to be that drastic," Mr. Weasley said.

"Should we have Alastor teach her Occlumency?" Mrs. Weasley asked anxiously.

"I already know Occlumency," Hermione spoke up, irritated that they kept talking like she wasn't in the room.

"Even so, what if it isn't good enough?" George asked. "What if he gets through-"

"We'll need someone stationed at her door," Draco demanded. "Every night-"

"Yes, I quite agree," Mrs. Weasley nodded.

"We'll set up patrols," Mr. Weasley agreed. "Tonks, if you could speak with Kingsley-"

"No."

Every eye in the room turned to her and Hermione wrapped the hand-sewn afghan tighter around herself defensively. "I'm not going to have a guard at my bedroom door every night."

"It's only until Friday," Mr. Weasley placated.

"And then after that?" she snapped. "I will still have this!" She waved her scar in the air. "It's not just going to just go away when I take that potion!"

"Hermione, it won't be for long," Draco muttered, placing a hand on her shoulder. "When we get done what we need to do-"

"No. I'm not doing this, I can't," she protested, shaking her head. "It's too much. I'm not doing this to you guys. I'm supposed to be here to help, not to cause more stress-"

"So what are you going to do?" Draco snarled down at her. "Hide out in the mountains? Chain yourself to a tree and hope you don't break loose when he decides to summon you?"

"Anything is better than putting the ones I love in danger, Draco!" she screamed, leaping to her feet and rounding on him, her words ringing around the kitchen and falling upon her ears, the realization of what she'd just said dawning upon her. His eyes flashed, his fury radiating off him in waves.

"And what of the one I love?" he asked lowly, his voice deadly, his fists clenching and un-clenching at his side. "Does that mean nothing to you?"

At a loss for words, Hermione just stared at him, every inch intimidating, hard. She felt the breath leave her lungs at his implication, her mouth going bone-dry, any answer she might have had dying on her lips. She had completely forgotten about the other people in the room until Draco spoke, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Get that lookout at her door," he snapped, grabbing her elbow and dragging her out of the kitchen. No one said a word as he tugged her up the stairs and into her room where she stood still as a statue, her gown plastered to her with rain and drying mud, her hair clumped against her head, her entire body trembling from cold and nerves. When the lamps flamed to life her heart stopped at the dangerous look on Draco's face. His split lip was swollen, his left eye beginning to swell, scratches down his neck, across his chest, mud spattered all up him, caking his pants. His hands were in fists, every muscle rigid. For a long time they just stared at each other, the tension in the room palpable.

"Please say something," Hermione breathed when she couldn't stand the silence any longer. His jaw twitched.

"I think we've both said more than enough," he muttered. His tone made Hermione's blood run cold.

"Draco-"

"Do your Occlumency every night. Do not leave this house under any circumstance."

"Draco-"

 _"Do you understand me?"_ he yelled, his fury mounting. Fear quivered in her belly, not of him, but of her inability to repair the damage she'd inadvertently wreaked. She swallowed dryly before she was able to speak.

"Yes, yes of course." She waited with bated breath for him to say something, anything…

He gave no acknowledgment that he'd heard her, his cold eyes glaring menacingly down at her. She breathed in once, twice, three times, and then held it when he turned and smashed his fist into the wall, making her jump. Then, without another word, he ripped open the door and stormed out, slamming it so hard the hinges rattled and dust rained from the ceiling. She wanted to call out to him, but his retreating footsteps were all the answer she needed. He wanted nothing to do with her.

Hermione felt as though her heart was falling through the floorboards, the ache of the loss like a vise on her chest making it hard to breathe.

After a long while her exhausted body sought her bed and she lay awake until the rain stopped and the morning birds began their song. She could feel the cold permeate her senses from his deadening words.

She didn't rise when the noises outside her door signaled the waking of the others, nor did she answer when someone knocked. She watched the grey of the day slip into night, un-moving and uncaring. She kept her eyes wide, willing herself awake, terrified of being summoned back to her master's side, Draco's words ringing through her numb mind on repeat.

.

.

.

A/N: I know, I'm the worst making you guys wait so long! I'm trying, I promise! Wonder if some of you are going to catch Hermione's slight change in thought... ;)

BoredRavenclaw620: "Escape" might be a little extreme. Think her time with Voldy is over?

Perditrix: Yeah, Ron was being a turd, but sweet Draco is sweet ;) Not so sweet in this chapter though :/ ah, hormonal teenagers!

AuraAuthor: I rather like making you at a loss for words! What say you about this update?

LissaDream: I'll see what I can whip up for you ;) need one after this chapter?

tilly90: Don't fall out of your chair, I don't want to be responsible for any injuries! Maybe make sure you read the rest in a safe space with lots of pillows nearby...

everlastingtrueromance: Glad you're caught up! Must have been mighty confusing having skipped 15! Lol. And DID Hermione get out in the nick of time? Hmm... ;)

XOXO

RynStar15


	18. Incursio Incipere

Draco woke Monday morning after a very restless night and dragged himself down to breakfast, glancing towards the Slytherin table where Blaise was huddled with his cronies, Pansy's gaze darting around the Great Hall as if she expected Valouris to be hiding amongst the Hufflepuffs or ducking behind towers of pancakes. There hadn't been a single word about her disappearance yet, but when classes began Draco knew other students would notice and theories would begin their cycles.

As for Draco, he could hardly care less for his fellow classmates and their wild rumors. His thoughts were stuck at the Burrow with Hermione who reportedly hadn't even left her room since her incident. Everyone knew why. He couldn't have handled the situation any worse. Not only had he been cold and distant to her about her mysterious connection to the Dark Lord, but he'd completely dismissed her declaration and practically thrown it back in her face. Not only that, he'd all but admitted he was in love with her one minute and ran out on her the next. What the bloody hell was wrong with him?

This was exactly what she needed right now on top of everything that was happening. He was such a brainless prat. Who the hell's grand idea had it been to have him help Hermione through this alone? He should have a fucking chaperone, someone to be his puppeteer to tell him exactly what to do and say so shit like this didn't happen.

He'd straight up panicked. There was nothing else to it. At her words he'd felt such elation and terror at the same time that he did the only thing he could think of: run. And now not only was he atoning for his appalling response, but Hermione was stuck at the Burrow with nothing more than his awful behavior and the fear of the Dark Lord's possession to keep her company.

Bloody-fucking-brilliant.

But what choice did he have? If he'd told her he was in love with her, then what? She would create wonderful fantasies of a cottage in the woods and happily-ever-afters when they both knew it could never be. When all of this was over they would go back to their separate lives. It was the way things were. A Pureblooded heir such as he had a duty to marry a powerful connection to keep the lineage strong. His choices were sparse and already laid out for him. He had obligations to uphold, responsibilities that hardly justified a relationship like what he was sure they would have. His wife would be dutiful: provide his heirs and stay out of his way. That was the way the Malfoys worked, what he had always wanted. Hermione needed and deserved so much more than he could give her.

She would figure it out eventually. He hated that he had to hurt her, but everything would work out in the end. She would find someone worthy of her, someone who could give her the time and attention someone as wonderful as she deserved. Someone who would calm her when she got worked up about something. Someone who would hold the hair out of her face when she leaned over a steamy cauldron or a bucket. Someone who could make her melt at their touch, who would love her for the way she bit her nails or the way she huffed in annoyance when she couldn't find something. Someone who would carry her to bed when she'd fallen asleep over a book or hold her when she was sad or scared. Surely there was any number of men who would do all these things in place of him.

But, damn, how he wished he could do it himself.

To keep himself from dwelling on the situation, Draco threw himself zealously into trying to find any whisper of what was happening in the Death Eater world, scanning the Daily Prophet, Evening Prophet, and even the Quibbler for any sign of what they were up to. Muggle crime all over the country had spiked and the Slytherins who were surely linked to You-Know-Who followers were acting up; sneaking around, cursing younger students for the slightest err. Draco himself was receiving a large portion of their wrath but took it silently, secretly content that they picked on him and not the younger children who didn't understand the meaning behind it.

As predicted, by Wednesday the entire school was buzzing about Valouris' disappearance. Draco had stopped doing his schoolwork but since McGonagall and Lupin both knew who he really was now, no teacher bothered him about it and if students looked at him in shock when he didn't raise his hand in class he just shrugged it off and used the pressure of exams to excuse for his bad behavior.

Mrs. Weasley sent them owls nightly to assure them that they were safe and sound, Hermione keeping to her room with the potion which was supposedly coming along well. He had never worried; Hermione didn't need his help in that aspect. She had everything she needed and it was good that she had something to do to keep her mind and hands busy as this portion of the program was difficult and meticulous, requiring an incredible amount of concentration and intellect.

Thursday morning Draco's senses went on high alert. The Slytherin table was missing a large number of students, including Blaise, Theo, Greg and Vincent, Pansy, Millicent, Daphne, and even her younger sister Astoria. Several others seemed to be missing as well…where was Durbin? Quincy? This odd behavior was alarming and when he pointed it out to Potter, the Golden Boy shoved the Daily Prophet under Draco's nose.

 _ **LONDON HAS BEEN INVADED**_

Draco looked up at Potter in horror, noticing that the rest of the hall was oddly hushed, the teachers running up and down their table to whisper to each other, their eyes' darting out at the students.

"Read the article," Potter muttered as the Weasleys sank into seats in front of them looking troubled.

The article went on to explain that Death Eaters had taken up residence in the streets of London and were questioning patrons, wizard or not, as to the whereabouts of Valouris Malfoy and the hidden Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix.

 _"For every day no one steps up with some answers," Fenrir Greyback stated in a forced interview. "Well, let's just say that…accidents happen."_

Draco's stomach churned. Gods, he hoped Hermione hadn't caught wind of this. Twisting the stone around his neck nervously he read about the recent damages. Already a prestigious Muggle business building was in ruins, a bus of Muggle children on a field trip were missing, and several known Muggle-born households were found with the Dark Mark above them. Indeed, Sprout was bending over Justin Finch-Fletchley's shoulder, talking to him quietly while he sat still as a statue, fat tears streaking down his face.

The weird blonde girl who always wore a lion's head hat to the Quidditch games took a seat next to Weasley who was shoving waffles into his mouth.

"Luna, what's wrong?" Weaslette asked. Indeed, she looked incredibly wan, her large eyes protruding less than usual, her usually straight stature hunched.

She gave the youngest Weasley a small smile which only increased the pain-wracked features. "Professor Flitwick just spoke to me. You see, a group of Death Eaters went to my house yesterday and tried to force my father to write about these horrible atrocities. It seems he refused them. They found his body in the front garden last night, the house all but gone."

"Oh, Luna!" Weaslette cried, reaching for her friend across the table. "I'm so sorry!"

"Luna, that's awful," Potter said, looking sincerely distressed. "I'm sorry."

"Yes, I'm quite upset over it. He was my only family, you see. But I suppose you know all about that, don't you Harry?"

Draco thought this was a rather rude remark but Potter just nodded while Weaslette rounded her brother to sit on the other side of Luna, taking her hand. Weasley himself had quit stuffing his face and was looking at Luna rather oddly.

"Luna, if there's anything we can do..." Potter began.

She shook her head. "Professor Flitwick said I can leave right after exams to take care of everything. He even said I could leave now if I want."

"Well, where would you go?" Weasley asked, looking at the blonde. "I mean, if you have no family and all-"

"Ron!" the youngest Weasley hissed, but Luna simply shrugged.

"I suppose I'll find a place in Diagon Alley. Maybe Tom will let me stay for a while-"

"Well, why don't you come home with us?" Weasley offered. Everyone looked over at him and he scoffed. "What? I mean, if she has nowhere to go, she can't just be staying at that dingy pub, with creeps lurking around everywhere-"

"What a lovely offer, Ronald," Luna said, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek and Weasley turned a brilliant shade of red. "Thank you for listening, but I really have to hurry. I heard rumor that there were some Gulping Plimpies down at the lake. Father always did wish to see them."

As she walked away, Draco turned to the others. "Is she not wearing any shoes?" he asked, perplexed. No one looked back at her, Weasley stuffing his face again, Weaslette pouring back over the Prophet, Potter explaining the recent news to Longbottom who had just joined them.

"Probably not," Weaslette said absentmindedly.

"And what are Gulping Plimpies?"

"No idea."

Draco let it go, still confused, but it was obvious that they all just allowed Luna to be her strange self and had probably stopped questioning.

Classes were subdued, the missing students and the fear of the others that their families were in danger choking out what little life Hogwarts had left. The teachers worked extra hard to keep the students on track with the upcoming finals, but no one seemed to pay attention. Draco didn't even listen to the lessons and instead focused on the whisperings around him, trying to latch onto any wild rumor for more information as to what was happening outside of the castle. Would all of this have happened when they went back? Had Hermione heard everything? He hoped for her sake that she had been kept in the dark.

By dinnertime the Great Hall was buzzing. As the puddings arrived, McGonagall strode along their table and leaned down in the middle of their group.

"If you four would accompany me to my office, please," she said sternly before walking on by, meeting no wandering eyes. Potter looked at him with raised brows but he just shrugged and they rose with the two Weasleys and followed the older witch out and up to the circular room where all of the old headmasters and headmistresses seemed to be getting ready for bed; some tugging on night caps, others peeking out from behind eye covers. Mad-Eye Moody stood from his seat by the window and leaned heavily on his cane, his face somber.

"Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Alastor is going to escort you to St. Mungo's where your parents are being treated," McGonagall said bracingly and the two blanched. "They were found this morning by your brother Bill. They are both recovering and asked us not to inform you until after classes."

"But what happened?" Ron demanded. "Why wouldn't you tell us-?"

"It seems Miss Granger may have attacked them when they attempted to prevent her escape," she answered. "Apparently we underestimated the power of the control You-Know-Who wields over her."

"Wait, she's _gone?"_ Draco snapped, his blood running cold.

"I told you that bitch was dangerous!" Ron screamed.

"Language, Mr. Weasley!" McGonagall cried as he turned his snarling gaze on Draco. "And yes, Mr. Malfoy, she has gone. We have everyone we can spare looking for her but the chances of finding her without inside help are very low at this point. We suspect she had already joined with the Dark Lord."

"Then we have to save her!" Draco yelled, his mind whirling with images of her being tortured, shackled in the dungeons below the manor. "They'll kill her!"

The look in her eyes told Draco she thought the same as he. The odds that Hermione was still alive…

"I assure you, we are doing everything we can, Mr. Malfoy," she coaxed before Moody interrupted her.

"We assume she has been taken to the Malfoy Manor," he growled, staring Draco down. "If you can give us any information that might help us retrieve her-"

"I'm going with," he stated resolutely. "You'll need my help; you'll never get in by yourselves." Though he had no idea how he would manage the feat as he was no longer a Malfoy, but he didn't deem it prudent to tell them that now.

"Mr. Malfoy, I really do not think that is the best idea-"

"I don't bloody care what you think!" he shouted at his headmistress, as shocked as everybody else at this unexpected outburst. "It's my fault she is in this at all; I'm not going to just stand aside while those sick bastards slaughter her! We have to act now!"

McGonagall looked to Moody who had stepped forward at Draco's sudden display of anger. They seemed to speak with their eyes and Draco waited impatiently, not meeting the stares of the others, digging his nails into his palms to still their tremor.

"I will escort Mr. Malfoy to Bill's after I take Ron and Ginny to St. Mungo's," Moody finally said slowly. McGonagall's lips thinned but she finally gave a curt nod and Draco ripped open the door so as to hurry the others along.

"I'm going with Malfoy," Potter proclaimed. Moody looked amusedly to McGonagall who threw her hands up in resignation.

"Mind you your death will not get you out of that essay on Animagi, Mr. Potter, and I expect it to be on my desk Monday morning," McGonagall snapped, dropping into her chair and pulling a sheaf of parchment towards her.

"Yes ma'am," he said with a half-smirk and led the way out of the office.

No one spoke as they wended their way through students thronging up to their dormitories for the night, a few recognizing their former professor and nudging their friends, whispering behind their hands at his strange appearance. It wasn't until they were crossing the mist shrouded grounds that the heavy silence was punctured by Weasley's grating voice.

"Think there's any chance they haven't done her in yet?" he asked scathingly.

"Ron!" his sister gasped.

"That's enough, Mr. Weasley," Moody grunted dangerously.

"What? We're all thinking it."

Draco envisioned his fingers wrapping around Weasley's gangly neck and could almost feel his windpipe caving beneath his grip. It was easier to keep his mind on how much he hated the freckled prick than on the single question he had voiced, the only thing Draco could think about. How long had Hermione been with the Dark Lord? Could she possibly still be alive? Was she scared, hurting? Or was she soulless, having been fed to the Dementors? Had his aunt tortured her to insanity yet? Would she even know who he was? Would she remember what he'd said...?

When they arrived at the large wrought iron gate Moody tapped it with his wand and it swung forward silently. After replacing all of the enchantments he drew a mangled quill from inside his leather robe and tapped it with his wand. It glowed blue and they all stepped forward to place a finger on it, everyone pointedly not meeting each other's eyes.

"Three, two, one-"

Draco felt the familiar grip around his middle that accompanied Portkey transportation. Used to traveling this way, he landed on his feet and lifted a brow to the other three teenagers who were sprawled in a tangled heap on the floor of St. Mungo's.

"This way," Moody said, hurrying forward to a harried looking witch with a clipboard trying to make sense of the squawks a molting warlock was emitting.

"Arthur and Molly Weasley, please, their children are here to see them," the Auror stated.

"I'm sorry, you'll have to wait in line and ask the Welcoming Witch, I don't have any room numbers," the young girl said, sounding strained as she continued trying to talk to the warlock. "Sir, do you remember how you got here? Did someone bring you?"

Her words were drowned out by a screaming child whose bottom half had somehow been transformed into tentacles, his father desperately looking for help.

"Alastor! Alastor, over here!" someone yelled and they all turned to see a man with long red hair tied back in a thong making his way through the crowd.

"Bill!" Weaslette yelled, running into her older brother's arms. "Mum? Dad?"

"They're fine, Gin, they've just finished their dinner," Bill answered, stepping forward to embrace Weasley with a clap on his shoulder.

"Well come on back, mum's been having kittens over you all," he said, making to lead them down a hallway.

"I'll be taking this lot," Moody said, signaling to Draco and Potter. "See what we can do about finding Miss Granger."

Draco shuffled restlessly, anxious to get out of there. Were exchanging pleasantries completely necessary with Hermione's life on the line?

"Right. Fleur's got dinner on the stove, I'll catch you guys up in a bit," the elder Weasley said, draping his arm over his younger sister's shoulders. "Harry?"

"I'm going with Malfoy, give your parents my best," he answered, dropping a kiss on Weaslette's head and squeezing her hand.

Draco rushed them forward, feeling edgy. Every second they delayed could be Hermione's last.

"Grab my arm, if you would," Moody instructed after they had exited the building to the empty Muggle street. Potter took one arm, Draco the other, and the three of them were being sucked through a tube, landing in sand on a cliff overlooking the ocean. A cozy whitewashed cottage was nestled amongst a thriving garden, smoke puffing from the chimney, the windows ablaze. The three men strode forward and Fleur met them at the door.

"Iz everything alright? Bill said you were meeting 'im at St. Mungo's," she asked nervously, wiping her hands on an apron stretched over her immense belly.

"We did and word is that Molly and Arthur are doing just fine."

"Oh, thank goodness!" Then she caught sight of Potter. "'Arry! Eet iz wonderful to see you!"

Draco grinned as Potter turned red when Fleur swooped down on him, kissing both of his cheeks. She turned to Draco then and he nearly kicked himself for the drop of his belly at her beauty.

"'Ave we met? I am not sure..."

"Yeah, we've met a few times-" he started and then braced himself as she leaned up to kiss him as well, causing his joints to take on the consistency of gelatin. Draco scowled as Potter muffled a chuckle with his fist.

"Come een, come een, we are just getting started," the part-Veela summoned and Moody took the opportunity as soon as she turned her back to smack both teenagers on the back of the head, Potter receiving the brunt of it as Moody's cane was in that hand. Draco would have rounded on the older man, but had to admit the blow had steadied his senses and he scolded himself for his reaction to the witch. He'd been in her vicinity numerous times, but had never been on the receiving end of her affection and now couldn't blame Potter or Weasley for their reactions.

Fleur bustled them into the warm dining room where a dozen or more witches and wizards were sitting and standing around the table with bowls of stew and chunks of bread, goblets of mead, and pumpkin juice. There were greetings from all sides as Fleur shoved food into their hands, Draco setting his on the table with barely a word of thanks.

"Listen up, you lot. We need to start splitting up into search parties," Moody thundered over the roar of the crowd. "Mr. Malfoy claims he can help get us into the Manor, so we'll need volunteers-"

Everyone jumped when a high pitched wailing broke out. Chaos ensued; everyone rushed into the living room where what looked like a Family Clock was hanging above the mantle, although there was only one bright red hand pointing straight up to words Draco couldn't read. His curiosity was satisfied when someone screamed out-

"Headquarters!"

"Alright everyone, let's move out, you know the drill!" Kingsley shouted above the din. Fleur squeezed her way amongst the crowd to tap the strange clock with her wand and the alarm desisted.

"Stay here with Fleur, you are not to leave the house, do you understand me?" Moody instructed Draco and Potter as others surged towards the front door.

"What's going on?" Draco demanded.

"Headquarters has been broken into," he explained hastily, drawing his wand out.

"But what about Hermione?" Draco snapped.

"I'm sorry, but it's going to have to wait," his ex-professor yelled, already running for the door, turning to his protege. "Tonks!"

"Like hell." Draco followed the others who were disappearing one by one with loud pops.

"Where do you think you're going, Malfoy?" Potter bellowed over the commotion.

"I'm not going to sit back and wait while Hermione is being tortured!"

Potter grabbed his elbow, yanking him back. "They'll kill you, Malfoy! How can you possibly think you'll get her out alive on your own?"

"I have to fucking try!"

The door swung shut as he approached it and Draco rounded on Fleur.

"You are going to stay 'ere until zey come back," she said, her face hard. "Zere iz no sense in you getting yourself keeled by being an impetuous teenager. 'Arry should 'ave taught you that lesson."

Draco looked at Potter who was holding his own wand aloft, aimed at his chest. "I don't like this anymore than you do. I love Leon like a brother and I imagine I feel the same about Hermione. But nothing good will come of us rushing in there unprepared and outnumbered. That's exactly how I got my godfather killed and I won't see the same happen to Hermione."

"How can you just sit here and do _nothing?"_ Draco hollered, his chest tight at the thought of Hermione's imprisonment.

"Because it's better than getting someone killed by acting rashly!" Potter yelled. "I understand how you feel, if that was Ginny out there I would be mad with worry and you would be holding a wand to keep me in this house. But you have to think of what is best for her. Getting yourself killed won't solve anything."

Eventually they talked him down and the fact that he'd been locked in the house helped to get him settled on the couch, then pacing, then staring out the window, then pacing again. The three of them waited in silence, Fleur cleaning, Potter brooding in an armchair by the fire, his head whipping to the window at every sound.

It seemed like an eternity but the actual clock mounted on the wall told Draco it had barely been three-quarters of an hour when the sounds of Apparition sounded outside. They all ran to the window but it was too dark to see anything more than a dozen shapes popping up just outside the barrier.

"Why aren't zey coming eenside?" Fleur asked anxiously, wringing her hands. Then they all felt the shudder that indicated the barriers being broken.

"Fleur, get into the kitchen," Potter said gallantly, striding to the door while whipping his wand out, Draco doing the same.

"Like 'ell!" she answered, pulling her own wand out of the pocket of her apron. Draco would have grinned at her spark but he was too preoccupied with the intruders stalking towards the house. The three of them formed something of a wall before the door and when it opened, all wands were trained on Moody and-

 _"Hermione!"_ Draco cried, making to go to her, but Potter held him back.

"What did you give me on my arrival to headquarters last summer?" Potter snapped at Moody, his arm still on a struggling Draco.

"A picture of your parents at a dinner part just before you were born," he grunted. "And I've already checked Miss Granger, it's her. We had to put down the barriers for obvious reasons."

Draco hardly heard any of this exchange as his attention was wholly on an exhausted, though seemingly uninjured, Hermione. Her nightgown was torn in several places; she was filthy, her hair matted, dirt coating her bare feet and gown. She refused to meet his eye and instead kept them trained on the floor.

They stood aside to let the two in as the others outside replaced barriers. Fleur rushed forward and draped a shoddily hand-knitted afghan over Hermione's shivering shoulders much as Mrs. Weasley had done several nights before. She mumbled her thanks, her eyes closing, obviously drained. Draco hovered by the fireplace, unsure of what to do. He knew she must still be angry with him but at the moment he didn't give a shit. Terrible visions of what might have happened to her, what she must have gone through to get away from the Dark Lord for a second time, were consuming him so that he wanted nothing but to wrap his arms around her to be sure she was really here.

"What happened?" Potter finally asked as they all settled around the fire.

"Are you guys good here?" a sandy haired man asked from the doorway.

"Yes, we're fine. I'll meet up with you once we get things sorted out here," Moody answered, eyeing Hermione.

"Right-o, we're off then." And everyone who had just entered left grumpily, looking as if they would rather stay and indulge in the comfy chairs and deep couch which Hermione was settled at the edge of. Tonks rushed forward to whisper something in Moody's ear who nodded before she turned and left with the others.

"What happened?" Potter repeated after Tonks tripped out the door. "Was headquarters broken into? And where did she come from?"

"Well, headquarters was attempted to be broken into," Moody answered. "By Miss Granger, here."

 _"What?!"_ Potter snapped while Draco looked to Hermione for confirmation, but she just hugged the afghan tighter around herself.

"It was her way of alerting us. She couldn't get into any of the safe houses obviously, said she's been Apparating all over the country trying to throw off the Death Eaters," Moody explained, wincing as he straightened out his wooden leg.

"Hermione, _what happened?"_ Draco finally blurted after several moments of intense silence. She heaved a great sigh and finally looked up, her face ashen.

"How are Mr. and Mrs. Weasley? Are they alright?" she croaked as if she hadn't even heard his question.

"They're fine, at St. Mungo's as we speak and are expected to make a full recovery," Moody answered. Draco could see the alarm flash across her eyes but she otherwise made no movement.

"Did I-?"

"Yes."

She nodded and weakly pulled the blanket tighter. Face to the ground, her hair falling in a lanky curtain to hide herself from view, she began.

"I don't know how I got out of the Burrow. I don't remember anything until I was standing on the sidewalk in front of the Malfoy Manor. There were several of them there, waiting for me. There was a fight, I don't know how long…I've been sleeping with my wand on me, just in case, you see. Stunned a few, maybe injured a couple...But there was more, always more. And then He was there. Voldemort. He was just there, out of nowhere. He was livid…His eyes…I t-tried to Apparate, but someone grabbed me. I took them with me. I tried to shake him off when we landed but he was so strong…he fought, didn't even use a wand. He's more animal than human now…"

"Who?" Potter asked.

Hermione looked up almost apologetically. "Fenrir Greyback."

Draco shot across the room to kneel at Hermione's feet, tugging her head up so he could look in her eyes. She tried to pull away from him but he held tight.

"Did he bite you?" he snarled, his fingers digging into her arms. She refused to meet his gaze. "Hermione, _did he bite you?"_

She shook her head. "No."

Draco sighed and the others around the room made sounds of relief.

"Did he hurt you?" She shrugged, pulling her arm out of his weak grasp, an obvious dismissal which stung when he remembered how only days ago she had sought his comfort.

"I'm fine."

Taking the hint, Draco backed off to his prior station by the fire as Fleur bustled in with a cup of tea for Hermione who murmured her thanks. After taking a sip she seemed slightly more composed and Draco had a strong feeling the tea was laced.

"After I was able to shake Greyback off I ran for it. As it turned out, sometime during our scuffle he happened to place some sort of tracking device on me so that whenever I used magic, namely Apparition, everyone with another one would be sent to me.."

Draco cursed, scrubbing his face at the thought of her jumping around the country in terror while they showed up at every turn...

"But where would he put it?" Potter asked, eyeing her flimsy shift and Draco nearly growled at his roving gaze.

She lifted her hand to the back of her neck. Moody hobbled over to her and moved her hair aside to exam it and even from his distant spot Draco could see the ugly black hand-shaped bruise. It looked as though Greyback had nearly throttled her in his attempt to place the device on her.

"How did you-?"

She cleared her throat. "I had to slice it off. I don't think it was meant to be removable."

Fleur made a small sound of horror while Moody continued to examine the area. Seemingly satisfied, the Auror returned to his seat while Draco's stomach burned with the thought of her alone and scared having to literally rip that thing off her skin. Hermione took another bracing sip of tea, her eyes glazing over momentarily before clearing, proving Draco's theory that the drink was heavily doused.

"They stopped showing up wherever I was after it was off. Once I was sure they couldn't follow me I went to headquarters, knowing this thing-" she lifted her left arm "-would set off the alarms. I'm sorry to have worried anyone, but I didn't know how else to get your attention."

"No, you did the right thing, lass," Moody assured her gruffly. "Is there anything else you need to tell us?"

"No, no that's everything," she murmured with a shudder.

"We should call zat nurse from 'Ogwarts," Fleur fussed, moving over to Hermione to tug the afghan further up her shoulders.

"No, please, don't go to any trouble," Hermione pleaded. "I'm not hurt-"

"Like hell," Draco growled, making her head snap up, a pleading look in her eye. "Your neck, your feet-"

"Scratches and bruises, nothing I can't handle," she replied scathingly. "Please, I'm just...tired. I'm so tired. I just want to go to bed."

Indeed, the bruising beneath her eyes seemed to have nothing to do with injury. She looked ill, as if she hadn't slept properly, if at all, since they'd realized her connection with the Dark Lord.

"Well, if you're sure, then I need to get this to the Auror's. Mr. Malfoy, I think it's best if you two stay here until tomorrow night. We'll have the potion brought over as soon as we can spare someone," Moody said as he rose heavily to his feet. "Tonks will be stationed right outside the door and guards will be patrolling the barrier until you two leave."

"Thank you," he replied monotonously, his eyes never leaving Hermione.

"Mr. Potter," Moody commanded. Reluctantly, Potter stood and went to Hermione, placing a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him, her eyes glistening.

"Thank you," he said. She looked as though she desperately wanted to embrace him but seemed to think better of it and simply nodded. He then turned to Draco and held out his hand. Draco looked at it with surprise before taking the firm handshake.

"Good luck," Potter said sincerely.

"And you."

The two disappeared into the night and tension filled the room like a bubble.

"Come dear, let us get you cleaned up," Fleur bade, pulling Hermione to her feet and escorting her towards the back of the cottage. She emerged several moments later with a heap of blankets and pillows.

"Sorry, we only have one 'uzzer room," she apologized throatily. "Can I get you anything to make you more comfortable?"

"No, this will be fine, thanks," Draco replied, not giving a damn about where he slept. Fleur flicked her wand and the blankets and sheets made themselves into a cozy bed on the couch, the pillows plumping themselves.

"If you need anything at all my room is down ze 'all at ze very end," she said. "Bill should be 'ere soon."

He nodded, not having anything to say, and she turned to check on Hermione, her silver hair fanning.

Draco listened to the sound of running water, to the soft voices of the women as they spoke. When Bill returned he simply nodded to Draco before heading down the hall in search of his wife. Uncomfortable with his surroundings, Draco laid down and eventually the lights dimmed until only the glowing embers of the fire remained.

The house was quiet. He figured Hermione had already gone to bed. He wanted to go to her, to crawl in next to her where he knew she would be warm and soft. He wanted her to kiss him, to tell him everything was going to be alright, that he never had to worry about her again because she was going to stay right where she was with the strongest enchantments and hundreds of bodyguards on her at all times until every evil in the world was rid of.

 _Yeah, right._ Hermione Granger standing aside and letting someone take care of her? It was laughable.

Fighting the urge to sneak to Hermione's room, Draco stared into the dying light of the fire until the sounds of the ocean rocking against the cliffs outside lulled him to sleep.

.

.

.

Perditrix: Ah, the indirect admission of love! How very teenager-angsty of them! Lol. Glad you enjoyed, here's some more problems for funsies!

CatwinWo: They've ALMOST made it a week! One more day, what could go wrong?!

LissaDream: Ah, the little Draco worrying over his sweetheart. He's gotten rather good at that, hasn't he? She does seem to get herself into some pretty ridiculous situations. Maybe one day he'll suck up his pride and admit to her WHY he worries so much!

BoredRavenclaw: Yes, these kids have been put through the wringer! And I ain't NEARLY done yet! I will SO bring it!

AuraAuthor: What a great compliment! I, too, get bored with the same-old tropes and boring predictability of my beloved fanfiction. I try to keep things interesting and hopefully throw enough curves balls to keep everyone on their toes! Get ready for some more!

lovestorylover2000: Ah, we've fallen into the trap of hormonal teenager drama! Obviously, they are both blowing the situation way out of proportion, but they ARE teenagers and that's just what they do. Hopefully they'll get their emotions sorted out, but it is going to take a little bit of banging our heads against the wall until they get there.

XOXO

RynStar15


	19. Oceanum Inter Nos

Hermione woke to the sound of the sea, gulls calling to one another and waves breaking upon the shore. Nestled in warm covers, she thought she could live like this; right next to the water with no one to bother her but the sea birds. She could hide herself away in a cozy cottage just like this one where no one would find her, build up magical walls that she couldn't escape, no matter how strong the pull...

With a jolt of fear she suddenly realized that she was _waking,_ which meant that she had been _asleep,_ which meant she had been _vulnerable_...and she was still in the bed she'd been pressed into. Whatever Fleur had drugged her with must have worked. Evidently she'd slept so hard that even her master couldn't rouse her.

She shuddered at the unconscious thought. _Master._ She hadn't even realized she'd been thinking it until a row with Mrs. Weasley had the older woman paling. Hermione had instantly grown concerned that the woman had fallen ill until she'd shaken her head.

"Dear, you - you c-called him _'master,'"_ she'd explained in a terrified whisper.

"What?" Hermione had asked confusedly.

"You called You-Know-Who your master," Mrs. Weasley had said softly. "You said you didn't want to take the potion because your _master_ could get to you easier if you were sedated."

Hermione had nearly collapsed at the realization. Indeed, now that she thought on it, she couldn't call him anything else in her mind. She could call him by name aloud, but he'd taken hold of her thoughts, and she knew that she would suffer every moment she wasn't by his side. It was like a painful longing, one she'd felt when Draco had distanced himself. Her arm burned steadily, even when he wasn't calling her. She could feel him working to break into her thoughts, fingers ripping at the seams of her tenuous Occlumency. Whatever he had started was clamoring to be finished and she knew he wouldn't stop until she was his.

Voices down the hall stirred her from her morbid thoughts. She knew she should join them and put on a strong front. She'd so longed to just sink into the comfort Draco had offered last night but knew that if she did she might never let him go. All she had to do was remind herself of his dismissal and she was able to refuse his offer. He didn't want her. And she didn't need him. Not anymore. Not ever again. This mission was her burden to bear and after tonight he would have no role whatsoever and he could go back to ignoring her and she could start trying to get over him.

Reluctantly rising, Hermione turned to the clothes Fleur had set out for her. Clenching her teeth against the pain, she gently pulled her right arm out of the sleeve of her borrowed gown and moved to the mirror to assess the damage she'd pointedly made certain the others wouldn't see.

Four long, deep scratches ran from her shoulder to her middle back. The wound on her neck from where she'd sliced off the tracking device was still sore, but the Severing Charm she'd used to remove it had sealed the wound cleanly. She could see the bruises riding her ribs, the hand-prints on her neck, on her arms. She shuddered, remembering Fenrir's hot breath against her cheek, the fear that had coursed through her as he pinned her to the ground, his weight crushing her lungs.

 _Stop it, you're fine,_ she scolded herself, shaking the memories away. There was no use in dwelling. She would take these wounds as punishment for letting her vigilance slip. She'd let herself fall asleep, allowed herself to become vulnerable, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had paid the price. She wouldn't let that happen again.

Ignoring the stinging pain, Hermione dressed herself and left the room only to run immediately into Draco who was standing just outside her door.

They stared at each other awkwardly for a moment as his eyes roved her, assessing.

"I came to wake you," he finally stated lamely.

"I'm awake."

He nodded, for once his confidence slipping and the briefest glimmer of uncertainty was evident in his hesitant posture. He cleared his voice before he spoke. "Tonks just brought the potion. After breakfast we should get to work…"

There were so many things she wanted to say but her teeth seemed to be glued together. Instead, she nodded tersely and slipped past him without a word, greeting a group of Order members who were gathered in the kitchen for breakfast. She didn't care if she was being petty. All she wanted was to get through this day relatively unscathed and get back to her real family and forget this whole thing had ever happened. She never wanted anything to do with Draco again and would only work with him to see this whole damn thing through. Then they would go their separate ways and she would be happy.

At least she would pretend to be.

After swallowing down the breakfast Fleur provided, Hermione took the potion to her room, purposely slamming the door on Draco when he made to follow. She hadn't needed his help this past week and she damn well didn't need it now.

Re-reading the directions although she knew them by heart, Hermione checked every aspect of the potion, noting its color and consistency, the mercurial sheen she remembered comparing to Draco's eyes, the watery swirl which would thicken to a blood-like consistency in the next eight hours before their departure.

With the last ingredient added there was nothing to do until an hour before they were to leave, but worry seeped in as the clock ticked them nearer to their departure, thoughts of everything that could go wrong invading once more. When lunch approached she was summoned from her retreat and picked at her food, her stomach churning with nerves and the feel of Draco's hawk-like gaze. Draco himself looked tense, speaking to no one, taking to an armchair after finishing his meal and hardly moving. Hermione buried herself in plans set forth for when they arrived back home, pacing, and finally heading down to the portion of the beach within the barrier to escape the searing of his eyes on her back.

Dark grey skies entwined with the washed-out blue of the sea far in the distance. As a little girl she had always wondered what was out there, just beyond her vision. What would happen if she ran _really_ fast, right over the water, and met that edge before it disappeared again? What would she see? There had to be _something_ hidden there in that unreachable crevice. Some secret, something no one had ever found before. She would be the first to see it. Maybe it was another world, where dragons and unicorns existed and she could fly over fields of flowers and talk to the animals.

She smiled then, digging her toes into the wet sand, her shoes lying forgotten on a rock. Maybe she didn't speak to animals, but she had touched a unicorn, had watched Harry battle a dragon, had flown through the air on an animal unseen by herself. How was she to know that she needn't seek that horizon to find all of those things and more? Nothing could have prepared her for a life like this. It was so much more than she'd ever dreamed; far better and worse, far more exciting and dangerous than she had ever planned for her future. Glancing down at the Mark on her arm, she wondered how she would have reacted as that child, knowing this was to be her destiny.

And yet a part of her still longed to reach that place where the sky and sea converged, to see what awaited her there. If the dragons and unicorns were here, on the other side of that mystic line, then what else could be waiting out there? Could there possibly be more?

She stayed out there for hours, watching the tide rise. The sky grew ever darker, the stars winking between black clouds. When the water lapped at her bare toes, she stood and walked further into it, wading to her ankles. The time was over for wishing and waiting. Now, it was time for action.

When Hermione looked up at the small cottage on the cliff above her she started at the sight of Draco framed in the light of the doorway, looking down at her. Her heart clenched painfully. What she wouldn't give to run into his arms, to force him to admit he loved her, to hide in his embrace and never leave. To keep him.

She had thought she would be excited to go home, to see everyone, to finally finish this hellish ordeal. Instead, a part of her wished more than anything that she could stay here, in a world where she and Draco lived, where they had found something so much more than a way to end Voldemort's rein. For the first time in her short life, Hermione didn't feel like an outcast, a pariah. She felt loved, or had until Draco had run terrified at the thought of being with her.

Tears of disappointment stung at the back of her eyes. His rejection of their love hurt worse than any number of Crucios. She'd actually been naive enough to think that he might be able to see past her blood, past her annoying bookish nature and love her for who she really was.

 _Stupid,_ she chided herself. Hadn't she told him she didn't expect anything to come of this? That she understood their love affair would end as soon as they returned? It wasn't real, it was nothing more than a means to an end and a stress relief. Once they were home there would be no time to engage in that sort of thing and Draco would go on and find himself a respectable Pureblood when Voldemort was gone. She could never compare to what he deserved.

She had to stop fantasizing. Had to forget what could never be and focus on what was. These last weeks had been the best and worst of her life. She would leave them here where no one could touch them, no one could taint them.

Draco's gaze never wavered, his hands tucked into the pockets of his trousers, his robes billowing slightly in the breeze. Hermione shivered as the water broke over her calves. So lost in her musings, she'd forgotten the rising tide. Turning to the dark ocean once more, she sucked in a breath of salty sea air, steadying herself.

She turned to leave and squealed, falling backwards in surprise at the dark shape practically on top of her. Draco's Quidditch reflexes snatched her up before she hit the water, drawing her into his warm chest. Memories of being held like this, that feeling of safety, of comfort, of finally feeling as though she belonged, assailed her. She could feel his every muscle, his hot breath on her cheek. Remembered him taking her into his arms for a long kiss, a gentle caress, felt her nether regions clench at the thought of him pressing her up against a cold stone wall in a deserted hallway, of being laid against a soft bed.

As much as she wanted to sink into his embrace, she pulled away, blinking up at him before eyeing the distance between them and the cottage where he'd been standing only moments before.

"How did you-?"

He shrugged but didn't answer her. She bit down her retort at his infuriating nonchalance while her own heart was stampeding against her chest, even more so when his gaze softened, the backs of his fingers coming to her cheek.

No, she couldn't be sucked into his games anymore. She had to be strong; she couldn't let her guard down even for a moment around him. Clearing her throat she took another step back from him, his hand falling to his side. She felt a wave press against her legs as if even nature was trying to push them together. If only things were that simple...

"We should...get back…" Hermione said weakly, shuffling her numb feet. He said nothing to this either, simply stared at her. She could feel the heat emanating from his body and took another step back, her heart skipping a beat when he closed the distance until she could smell him. His eyes burned with intensity as he continued to look down at her.

"Stop looking at me like that," she breathed, backing up further, not caring at this point if she was soaking her borrowed robes, so long as she didn't have to be so near him.

"Why?"

"It's not fair."

"Life isn't fair," he muttered, stepping forward again. "You told me that, remember?"

She nodded, taking another step back, hissing when the ground dropped sharply and the freezing water hit her hips. A twinkle of amusement glistened in his eyes as she stumbled for stability, flushing though the cold water had her arm hair standing on end.

"We really should be going, the potion-"

"Doesn't have to be dealt with for another half-hour," he stated, his voice barely audible above the crashing of the waves. A cold breeze whipped against them, chilling her so that she shivered harshly. Uncaring as to his own clothes, Draco closed the distance between them, their robes swirling around them as he brought his hands up to rub her arms. The warmth of his touch stirred her to her core so that she rocked against him in cadence with the waves. His hands cupped her shoulders, stroked up her neck so that her eyes closed at the sensual touch.

Icy water splashed against her lower back and she jerked, realizing that she was falling under his spell as easy as a snake to its melody. Ripping out of his grasp, she stumbled back, sloshing through the water.

"Don't do this," she begged, now submerged to her chest, gasping at the cold.

"Do what?" he purred, his face twisted with desire as he waded towards her. Damn him and his extra height on her.

"Y-you kn-know what," she stuttered, shaking, digging her toes into the sand to prevent the rough waves from knocking her forward.

"Hermione…"

"Just STOP!" she screamed, pulling her body up as far as she could without losing her footing as the waves licked her neck.

"Hermione, come here, you're going to get pneumonia," he chided as if she were a small child, reaching out to her. Yanking her hand from his grasp she scooted further back, having to use her arms to propel her as her toes lost their grip.

"I d-don't care, just g-get away from m-me!" she yelled, cursing the freezing water as it pushed her to and fro, her words losing their power in her ridiculous dance to keep from being swept into his arms or sucked out to sea.

"Look, I'm sorry, alright? Now will you just come back to shore?" he pled, pressing forward, reaching out to her. She knew she was being ridiculous, that she would never get anywhere anyway. Just treading water was almost more than her frozen body could handle, but her rampant emotions and bruised pride didn't seem to notice.

"D-Don't pretend to c-care about me!"

"Don't be stupid-"

"Don't call me stupid!"

"Hermione would you just-"

But the rest of his words were drowned out as she was toppled into the water by a wave, the current ripping her under. Pushing for the surface she emerged coughing and sputtering to a wild looking Draco. He cursed soundly and strode the couple meters that separated them, grabbing her arm and yanking her into his chest.

"ARE YOU FUCKING MENTAL?" he screamed, his eyes like fire in the dark night. Without further ado, he dragged her towards the shore. Anger and humiliation reared its ugly head and she fought him, punching and clawing at him as best she could with her frozen limbs.

"Let me GO!"

He whipped her around so that the next wave slammed her into his chest and she was forced to grab him so as not to be pulled under again. His fingers dug painfully into her skin, his face spelled murder.

"I'm not going to let you go!" he roared. "I haven't come this far just to watch you leave!"

"You were the o-one who l-left!" she cried, gripping him as the water threatened to rip her away.

"I know and I'm fucking sorry, alright? I was scared, I was wrong-"

"No, Draco," she shook her head, her wet hair plastered to the side of her face as the wind chilled her to the bone, the weight of the words she knew she must say like an anchor on her heart. "You were r-right. O-once we leave here…there's nothing-"

"That's a lie," he snarled. "That's a fucking lie and you know it."

"Maybe it is!" she screamed, her heart painfully tight in her chest. "But we'll n-never know! Nothing can come of this, Draco! Nothing-"

His lips were incredibly warm, salty, and bruising against her own. His arms dragged her up, enveloped her, protecting her from the surf. The water ripped at them as if a litany of the gulf that separated them. Her resolve faltered against his words, the feel of him against her. It felt real, so real, but the memory of his dismissal, the knowledge of the impossibility of their situation, weighed heavy against her and she knew what she had to do.

She took this moment, diving into the kiss with all the passion and fervor which had drove them all these weeks. She took all the strength she would need to give him up from the intensity of his kiss, soaking it in, holding it close. With a strangled sob she twisted in his arms, releasing his grip, stumbling for shore, sloshing through the waves, dragging her soaking, icy form from the grip of the ocean and Draco. She didn't look back as hot tears flooded down her frozen face, didn't stop until she had reached the cottage where she dug her wand from her dripping pocket and dried herself in a trice.

She was completely composed when she entered the house and said nothing to anyone on her way to the back room where the potion bubbled noisily, the heat from the fire bringing a pins-and-needles sensation back to her body. She jerked when she heard the front door slam but refused to look up from the powdered bicorn horn she was measuring. She waited for him to come in, to yell, to fight, to carry on what she had left in the sea, but he didn't.

She worked in silence, adding the last ingredient and stirring as per the instructions. Glancing at the clock her stomach leapt. They only had ten minutes before the potion was ready and the others would be expecting them at Hogwarts, unaware that she and Draco couldn't enter the grounds now and appear at their designated arrival location.

The door opened suddenly and Draco strode in, not even meeting her gaze. Slipping past him, she said her hasty goodbyes to Fleur and Bill and finally joined Draco by the potion where he was shoving the last of the supplies into his bag.

Drawing her wand, Hermione sliced her palm over one of the vials she'd set out, watching silently as Draco did the same. Sealing the wound with her wand, she carefully ladled the potion into them, handing the one with her blood to Draco, remembering when they'd done this a month ago and how much had changed since then. Now they did not banter, they did not hold hands. The air was tense with so much more than anxiety about the potion's effects.

"We'll have to go outside," she murmured hesitantly, not wanting to break the silence. Draco merely nodded, hefted his bag on his shoulder and strode out of the room. Packing her own things quickly, Hermione grabbed her vial and followed him to where he stood just outside of the perimeter, knowing that the barriers in their world would still be up and prevent her from entering.

Counting down the seconds on her watch, she nodded to Draco as the hands stroke nine.

Throwing back the potion, her world went black.

.

.

.

Hermione blinked rapidly. She could hear the wind and sea, smell the brine. As her vision slowly cleared she realized she had once again fallen. Draco was watching her, but made no move to help her up as before.

"You'll have to go and alert the others, they'll have been expecting us at Hogwarts," she explained without looking at him, standing and brushing herself off. "I'll wait here."

Draco eyed the area intensely, his body hard. When he said nothing she began to repeat herself but he put his finger to his lips and drew out his wand. Doing the same, Hermione strained through the dark to see what had Draco worried. Before she could ask what he heard she was thrown to the ground, her wand flying from her hand. Spitting out sand, she rolled to see Draco was likewise on the ground and wandless. She screamed as someone grabbed her hair, dragging her ruthlessly to her feet, pulling her against a tall, hard body.

"Let her go!" Draco roared, tearing away from his captor who had likewise lifted him and crying out in pain as the masked Death Eater hit him with a spell that sent him sprawling once more.

"Draco!" she cried in terror as he writhed and twitched. Fighting her abductor, she strained to get to him but was only awarded a dirty hand over her mouth and nose, cutting off her air supply, the other arm vise-like around her waist.

The second the spell was lifted Draco was on his feet, flying for her. Another Death Eater sent cords wrapping around him and he slammed onto the ground with a yell.

"Well, well, well, look who we have here," the one who had hit him with the Cruciatus Curse sneered, grabbing the back of his hair and lifting his head up. "Been looking all over for you, boy!"

"Then take me," he spat, his lip bloody from where he'd bit it as he'd been tortured. "Leave her out of this!"

"When she walks so willingly onto our land?" the third man sneered, sauntering over to her where she struggled and gasped for air. "I think not."

When he reached out to touch her she kicked out at him, catching him where it hurt most, taking small pleasure as he doubled over in pain. The other two laughed but the watery-eyed Death Eater did not find her actions so amusing.

"Bitch! _Crucio!"_

She knew she screamed but she couldn't hear anything above the roar of the scalding blood in her veins. Having felt it before did not lessen the agony as it overtook her senses and she knew nothing but pain. It went on and on, ripping her apart until she was left sucking cold air into her lungs, her body spent and useless, sprawled once more on the sand. A boot caught her ribs and she shrieked as the force flipped her until she was looking up into Dolohov's twisted face. She could hear Draco screaming and fighting in the background, but it was lost in the fury that radiated from the Death Eater.

 _"You!"_ he sputtered before looking up at the other two. "It's the Mudblood!"

"Are you sure?"

"It's that same bitch that was in the Ministry!"

"And what is Master Malfoy doing with Potter's Mudblood?" his captor asked, glee in his voice.

"None of your goddamn business, Macnair!" he replied angrily. "If you don't let her go right this second I'm going to-"

"Ohoho!" the third Death Eater who had dropped Hermione drawled. "We seem to have caught my traitor nephew in an affair with this dirty rat. Well, she must be good at _something_ to have caught his attention, don't you think, Dolohov?"

"Won't know 'til we try, will we?" he leered sickeningly, his eyes undressing her. Fear clenched her with its icy fingers and she scrambled backward out of pure instinct. They laughed at her feeble attempt to escape and she was tugged to her feet by invisible strings, colliding with Rudolphus Lestrange's chest. He chuckled perversely and drew her near until she had to turn her head to prevent their lips from smashing together. His ghastly breath coasted her cheek and he bit her jaw harshly. Hermione yelped and tried to draw away from him as much as possible but his grip was tight.

"YOU FUCKING BASTARD! DON'T YOU TOUCH HER-!" Roars of pain overtook Draco and Hermione whipped towards him frantically, desperate to get to him, to protect him. Her arms were yanked behind her back painfully until her eyes watered and she was lifted off her feet. She screamed when she felt a sickening POP! from her left shoulder and knew it had dislocated. She kicked at Lestrange but couldn't see whether she'd hit him or not as she was flying towards the ground, agony overtaking her until her world was red.

She coughed harshly when the curse was lifted once more and tried to sit up, realizing that she, too, was now bound. She whimpered as white hot fire struck through her shoulder and she had to bite her lip to stem it.

"-behave or I will kill her here and now," MacNair was saying. "Lestrange, grab the chit. Let's get this lot back to the Manor and wait for instructions there."

Hermione cried out in agony as she was yanked to her feet. She caught Draco's eyes as he was pulled up by his hair. She could see the fear behind his carefully guarded face.

He looked as though he wanted to say something to her. There was so much she wanted to say to him. But their silent moment was over and they were Apparated away.

.

.

.

A/N: Apologies once more for the delay, thank you so much for your patience, wonderful readers! Enjoy this cliffy!

Perditrix: Yeah, Ron was kind of a brat last chapter. I actually am a huge Ron fan, so I hate making him be a dick, but his greatest attribute is his love for his family and I really can't imagine him being okay with a Death Eater attacking his parents which he had already warned might happen. Don't worry, he won't always be an asshat :)

AuraAuthor: Would it be half as fun if they WEREN'T so stubborn? :P

BoredRavenclaw620: Bahahahaha! I'm sure I could make a therapist VERY rich for studying me! Besides, the only therapy I need is making all my readers squirm! ;)

CatwinWo: Is leaving it like this better? Lol. Enjoy your cliffy!

XOXO

RynStar15


	20. Superiores Sibi

Draco felt his nose snap as he hit the stone floor and grunted in pain. The sound of Apparition cracked through the air and then he was met with silence.

Rolling to his side, he looked around. There was no door, no exit of any kind. He couldn't use magic even if he had a wand and the use of his hands, which were slowly growing numb as the circulation was cut off by the cords still tightly wrapped around him. He couldn't hear anything and knew Hermione would have been placed in another cell. He only hoped that she didn't struggle because if she did she would be placed in a torture chamber. Fear flooded him at the thought. He'd seen the pain in her eyes, watched her shoulder being ripped out of its socket, heard her screams as she'd been _Crucio_ -ed. How much more could she take? She was still recovering from her last encounter with the Death Eaters...

Terrifying thoughts sped across his mind. Would they torture her first? Question her? _Rape_ her? What if they found out about the Mark? They might kill her for that…

No, he wouldn't let anything happen to her. He couldn't. He had to get them out of this. This was his fault; he never should have put her through this in the first place, he should have just taken the damn Mark like he was supposed to, _he_ should have been their spy. It was his cowardice that had brought them here and he would damn well make sure Hermione got out, no matter the cost.

Draco sighed in confused frustration. What had happened? How had they been found? He knew he must be wanted for desertion, even if he hadn't taken his vows - he knew too much. His father would be furious that he'd left. But why would they be staked out at Shell Cottage? How would they even know to go there? It was a safe-house, it was hidden, protected...did that mean the Order been found out? What had happened while they'd been gone?

Which led to his next predicament. Even if he _could_ get them out of here, where would they go? Where was safe? His first choice was Hogwarts, but Hermione couldn't get through the barrier with her Mark and he couldn't leave her alone...

He mulled over the possibilities as his mouth filled with blood, his entire body aching. Why weren't they coming for him? What were they doing to Hermione? Would she tell them about the Mark? Gods, he hoped not. He needed to speak with her, tell her what to do-

The Mark.

She had the Mark, she could Disapparate out of here! Maybe she had escaped! Hope renewed, he knew if he could just get out into the main house he, too, could get out. The Malfoys were a harsh lot and had been known to imprison their own family members down in the depths of the manor, so there was no way for him to escape from here. Death Eaters could come and go as they pleased, however. There was no need to imprison a Death Eater; they were simply executed if suspected of misconduct.

But Hermione wouldn't know…would she even try to escape? He knew she was in pain, had she passed out? What were those sick bastards doing to her? Thoughts of their dirty hands and mouths on her, defiling her, had the bile rising, his anger roiling through every cell.

Draco twisted at the sound of Apparition and looked up into the carefully masked face of his sire.

"And here I thought you could sink no lower," Lucius Malfoy drawled, circling him. "A Mudblood, son? _Tsk, tsk,_ what would your mother think?"

Draco refused to answer, fury at the man above him yearning to burst forth. He had to stay calm, had to remain in control if he had any hope of saving Hermione. If he was going to get them out of this he had to keep a cool head. If they killed him he couldn't protect Hermione.

"Is that where you have been all these weeks? Renouncing your duties for scum like her? You cannot hide from your Lord forever, surely you must know that, Draco?" He chuckled when Draco did not answer. "The silent treatment, I see. Well, I believe we can loosen your tongue. _Crucio!"_

Draco clenched his teeth, knowing that it would only be worse if he screamed. He'd endured the curse so many times he knew better than to give his father the satisfaction. The anguish, however, never lessened.

His entire body throbbed when the spell was lifted and he sucked in painful breaths, focusing on his Occlumency, refusing to allow his emotions to take hold.

"I seem to have lost my touch. I would call in your aunt, but she's, ah, _busy,"_ Lucius sneered. Draco squeezed his eyes shut against the thought of Aunt Bella's delight with having Hermione as a prisoner. He couldn't think about that now, he had to stay focused. "I suppose I will just have to try harder now, won't I? _CRUCIO!"_

This time, Draco did scream. The agony was overwhelming and he could feel the rage which consumed Lucius ripping through his veins like fire. His father's triumphant laughter rang around the tiny cell as it was lifted, barely audible through Draco's harsh, racking coughs.

"There now, that's better!" Lucius sang, his blithe manner one that Draco knew well, a dangerous omen for the person it was directed towards and terror began to fill him at the extent of his father's wrath. "I do believe you understand now the severity of your actions. The Dark Lord is most displeased with you, Draco. Most displeased indeed. As your father, I feel a sense of responsibility, though I have done nothing to deserve this heinous betrayal. However, I have an obligation as your sire to find where I went wrong and what I must do to _correct_ this rather _unseemly_ situation."

Lucius paced the small space, fingering his wand as Draco panted at his feet. "Now, son, I require some answers from you and as I, myself, taught you the art of Occlumency, I'm afraid we are going to have to go about this the hard way. Veritaserum would do much to speed this process along and will no doubt be necessary for the Dark Lord's interrogation, but I don't believe we need be so undignified, do we?"

Draco shook his head, foregoing his pride for the sake of Hermione's safety. His father needed this power-trip; he'd been humiliated by his son's betrayal. If that was what he wanted from Draco, his utter submission, he would give it gladly.

"No, because you are not an unintelligent boy. You understand that things can get much, _much_ worse for you. So you are going to give me answers and you are going to give them truthfully or I will seek them from Miss Granger and you can be assured I will not ask _nicely."_

Draco dug his nails into the palms of his hands to still the shaking. He had to keep Lucius here, had to give him anything he wanted, because he couldn't stand the thought of his father's fury turned to Hermione.

"We'll start from the beginning, shall we? Where have you been?"

"With the Order," he spat instantly, blood from his nose still oozing down his chin. He could hear Moody's voice in his head as he'd trained them in interrogation. Stay as close to the truth as possible. Lucius seemed unfazed by this information, likely having gathered that fact once he'd been found with Hermione.

"And for what purpose, I might ask?"

Draco thought furiously, wondering how much he should say, praying that his explanation would be enough, that his father would buy it and punish him and release him so he could find a way to rescue Hermione. He rolled fully onto his back to look up at his father, his face a mask of indifference.

"Figured I'd work my way onto their good side, clear my name," he admitted, attempting to appear detached, as if his heart wasn't threatening to burst from his chest in fear. "Easier than I thought it would be, I have to admit."

Lucius stilled and was quiet for a moment as he chewed over his answer. "I see. So you doubt our Lord, do you?"

Draco shrugged nonchalantly, though it was stilted by the bonds. "No reason not to prepare for every outcome, just in case."

A flash of his quicksilver eyes was the only indication of Lucius' fury as he stared down at his son.

"Well, you have certainly acted as a true Malfoy," he conceded, his voice tight. "Looking out for oneself is an admirable attribute of our line. But you must have understood the penalty of turning your back on your Master?"

"I don't see that he has to find out," Draco smirked. "Wouldn't want him to know what a traitorous coward you've raised, would you?"

Lucius' face twisted with rage and Draco instantly knew his apathetic pose had failed. With a slash of the Death Eater's wand Draco's bonds fell away and he flew to the wall, smacking his head against the stone with enough force that the world went momentarily black. He felt his arms being shackled above him and howled in pain as his face whipped to the side from being sliced. He felt the blood trickle down his neck and the laceration burned something awful, his head throbbing as he clung to consciousness.

"Think you can outsmart me, do you?" Lucius snarled as Draco's vision wavered. "Think you'll be able to extort me, that I might take pity on you because you're my son? Well I have news for you, _boy."_

His face was inches from Draco's, his grey eyes wide with ire, and Draco felt true fear of this man for the first time in his life.

 _"I have no pity! Crucio!"_

 _._

 _._

 _._

Hermione licked her cracked lips as vestiges of consciousness beckoned at the corner of her mind. She didn't open her eyes right away; her head was throbbing mercilessly and she worried she might be sick if she tried. It was eerily quiet, but she reveled in the silence which meant that she was finally alone. As she shifted ever so slightly she nearly groaned in pain, but her throat was so dry and sore she couldn't muster a sound. Everything hurt - it was worse than the torturing she'd suffered from her master.

And still, all she could think about was Draco. Where was he? Was he alright? She knew he was the one they'd been searching for, she was just a perk. Would they kill him simply because he'd been found with her? She should have made him run at the first sign of danger, should have Apparated closer to Hogwarts where he would have been safe...

"So, the Mudblood lives."

The taunting voice of Draco's father filled the small room, a thrill of fear trickling down her spine at the familiar drawl. Hermione didn't breathe, didn't make a sound, too terrified that any wrong move would result in her or Draco's demise. She squeezed her eyes tighter as if this cowardly gesture could somehow change her circumstances and she would open them and be safe and warm in her bed at the Burrow.

"Did my beautiful sister-in-law give you a taste of what happens to those who seek above their station?" Lucius crooned cruelly above her. "Maybe you'll remember that the next time you think about soiling my son with your filth. _Crucio!"_

Hermione screamed brokenly, the pain making her jerk, setting her shoulder to flame. Even when it ended she could not stop the wracking sobs that tore from her chest.

"Pathetic. But then again, one cannot expect more from a defect such as yourself. However..." He turned her face up with the flick of his wand, causing her to cry out in pain again as her injured shoulder was jarred. "You may yet come of use. You see, for some reason beyond any sensibility, my son has taken to you. He trusts you, fancies himself _infatuated_ with you..."

Hermione's heart sank at his words. If Lucius truly believed that Draco cared for her he would have the advantage. He could use her against him and she worried what Draco might do if he thought it would keep her safe.

"Now...why would my son, a noble, powerful Pureblood, ever want anything to do with a sniveling, useless Mudblood? Unless you bewitched him?" Lucius knelt down until she was pressing into the stone floor in a vain attempt to distance his maniacal face from hers. "Was it a potion? Surely someone as intelligent as they claim you are would have no problem whipping up a simple lust potion?"

Hermione gaped at his implication. He thought she'd _drugged_ Draco? But to what intent?

"What did you give him, you worthless whore?" Lucius growled, his face reddening in fury. _"What did you do to my son? CRUCIO!"_

Hermione's screams echoed around the small chamber so that even when the curse was lifted they pierced her ears as a precursor of the pain she would yet endure.

"You did this to him, didn't you? _Didn't you?"_ Lucius roared madly, spittle flying from his lips.

Hermione's mind whirled with possibilities and scenarios. There was a chance Lucius really did believe she'd "bewitched" Draco into coming over to their side, possibly even wiping his memory to do so. More than likely, however, he was simply creating wild illusions as to the reason his son betrayed him. It was easier to blame the Mudblood, to punish _her,_ rather than admit that his kin had turned sides.

Could she use this to her advantage? If he really thought she had a part in forcing Draco to join the Order, would he let Draco go? Or would he kill Hermione and keep Draco captive, possibly brainwashing him into submission once more?

"Enough of this. _Legilimens!"_

Hermione felt the intrusion and instantly threw up her white marble wall, straining to keep it erect as Lucius Malfoy attempted to break through it. Hermione panted with the effort to push him out but she held strong, knowing that if he broke through she and Draco were dead.

With a curse, Malfoy broke the spell and looked down at her furiously.

"I suppose we'll have to go about this the hard way," he snarled through clenched teeth. "Do you require incentive, Mudblood? Tell me what you and my son have been up to or I kill him in front of you and brew up some Veritaserum. Does that sound like a deal?"

"Do what you will to me, but leave him out of this, this isn't his fault!" she croaked raggedly, fear lancing through her at the thought of having to watch Draco being murdered before her very eyes. Lucius chuckled coldly.

"How very alike you two lovebirds are. He said the same thing right before he stopped moving. So _weak."_

Hermione made a choked sound the image of Draco crumpled on the floor of a dungeon the same as she, bloodied and broken.

"Let him go and I'll tell you everything. Just please, let him _go,"_ she pled hoarsely, knowing it was futile even as she said it.

He chortled. "I see you and Mr. Potter are of the same mold. Neither of you seem to comprehend the concept of _leverage._ I care not whether you or my cowardly son lives or die. If you want something, my dear Mudblood, you are going to have to give in return. I am a reasonable man, but you cannot expect me to simply _'let him go'_ on faith. Tell me what you know and _I_ will determine whether it is worth your price."

"And how am I to know you haven't killed him yet?" she spat. He wanted to parry? She could play too. "Let me see him. Alone. If I am satisfied he will live then I will tell you what you want to know."

He looked as though he were chewing over the offer. She knew he hadn't killed Draco yet. They were too interested in the situation to give up so easily. But she had to see him, had to make sure he would be alright before she gave herself up.

"Ten minutes," she continued, knowing if Lucius had time to debate he might not agree. "Give us ten minutes alone and I will make the deal. The Unbreakable Vow. I will tell you everything we have been up to if you set Draco free, alive. I believe your master will find what I have to say well worth Draco's life."

His grey eyes, so like Draco's, bore into her. She knew he worried he might be punished if he cut this deal and she had nothing worth the while. But Lucius knew she wasn't unintelligent, and they would still have her. Harry Potter's best friend carried much more value than a defector. They could simply give her the Veritaserum and get any information they wanted out of her. Draco had little to offer at this point.

Except leverage.

"Use your Legillimency," Hermione said quickly, knowing that if she gave him a glimpse of her offer she would have all the incentive she needed to force his hand. Lucius looked stunned at her words but she went on. "I'll give you one memory from this past month and you can see for yourself if freeing Draco will be worth your while."

Wondering if she'd gone mad, Hermione brought the memory to mind, placing her Occlumency barrier behind it stolidly in case Lucius decided to press for more. Lucius seemed to be debating her scheme, but his curiosity finally won out and he aimed his wand.

 _"Legilimens!"_

Instantly the Malfoy manor materialized in her mind, Narcissa instructing Hermione on her timely descent down the staircase to the awaiting congregation. Hermione watched her interaction with Voldemort, heard her own voice stammering about her innocence, watched him twirl her about and gaze at her with depraved glee. At Voldemort's insistence, Blaise moved to escort his betrothed before Lucius stepped forward.

 _"My lord, if I may have a moment with my daughter in private?"_

Hermione shoved Lucius from her mind so forcefully he staggered back, his face pale, his eyes wide in shock, his mouth gaping as he fought for words.

"How did you - what did you-"

"Ten minutes," Hermione demanded, her face expressionless. She watched the emotions play over the elder Malfoy's face as he tried to comprehend what he had just seen. He straightened slowly, looking at her as if she were a ghost. He clenched his jaw, regaining his composure before raising his wand once more.

In a trice she was bound, gagged, blindfolded, and floating inches off the ground. She was carted off to what she assumed was another cell and cried out in pain when she was thrown against a wall, her hands thrust above her where iron bands clamped tightly around her wrists. Her world went white as her shoulder burned in agony.

"The clock starts now, Mudblood."

The blindfold and gag were removed and Lucius was gone. Hermione gasped at the image that befell her.

 _"Draco!"_

He was across the small room from her shackled like a dog, his face and entire front covered in blood. Gods, what had they done to him? His left hand was purple, the wrist bent at an irregular angle. A large gash on his cheek was still oozing, both eyes were swollen, his lip bloody, even his ear…it looked as though Bellatrix had gotten him with her whips, his robes slashed. His right leg was a mangled mass of blood, his shin bone poking out of his slacks. Swallowing back the bile, Hermione cursed herself for not getting to him sooner.

Draco moaned lowly, his chin resting against his chest. She called out his name, but he didn't seem to hear her. She searched the dark dungeon to assure that they were alone. Were the others listening somehow? Watching? It was unlikely Lucius would have left them without supervision, but it didn't matter. All she needed was this time with him, time to say goodbye, to tell him how she felt for him before her master killed her.

"Draco, please wake up," Hermione croaked, terrified that he wouldn't wake, that his injuries were too severe, that even if he was released, he might not be able to get to help and die in agony wherever they dumped him.

"Draco please, _please,_ you have to wake up, you have to be alright." Tears threatened but she bit them back knowing she had to stay strong for him. She tested her restraints and gasped as fire stabbed down her left side from her dislocated shoulder. She had to get to him, rouse him, make sure he could survive once they set him free, but the chains held strong and she was no match against them as weak as she was. She could feel the thrum against her skin that told her they would prevent any sort of magic and her wandless _Relashio!_ was met with a sharp sting.

Her head fell back to the wall. What was she going to do? She didn't know what other injuries Draco had, if he were bleeding internally. He needed to be seen by a Healer, but she had to get him to safety first. Then again, where was _safe?_ It seemed the Death Eaters had found out about Shell Cottage. Were the others okay? Fleur, Bill? How many other houses had been found out? Grimmauld Place? And how? What had happened while they'd been gone?

"Draco, please, open your eyes," she begged. "Please, Draco!" She watched his chest move up and down shallowly and took comfort in that. At least he was alive.

She screamed in frustration, kicking at the ground uselessly, crying out at the pain it incurred. How had everything gone so fucking _wrong?_

Across the room, Draco groaned in response to her cry and her heart thrummed in elation.

 _"Draco_! Draco, wake up!"

He stirred, his head rolling on his chest.

"Draco, can you hear me? Please, _gods_ Draco, look at me!"

He raised his head and squinted in her direction. "'Ermione?" he slurred.

"It's me, I'm here," she assured him, her eyes welling once more, relief washing over her. He looked at her confusedly for a moment and then realization dawned across his face and his swollen eyes widened.

 _"Hermione!_ ARGH!" His body convulsed in pain as he strained toward her, trying to break free of his shackles to get to her.

"Don't, Draco, you're hurt! Calm down, please!" she cried, his pain killing her. She saw him relax reluctantly, his eyes glazed with agony and defeat. "Draco, listen to me, we don't have a lot of time so we need to-"

"Go," he grunted, the word seeming to cause him a great deal of effort.

"Yes, but it's not going to be simple. I'm going to-"

"Hermione," he panted, as if the simple act of speaking exerted him. "Listen to me. You have...to get out..."

"We will-"

"No!" he roared, then cried out. Her heart ached for him as he grit his teeth against the pain, shaking his head as if to clear it. "Listen!"

"Alright, alright, I'm listening," she said hurriedly in an attempt to still his thrashing.

"You can...Apparate out of here," he rasped, his chin falling back to his chest, gasping. "Do it. Before they…come back."

"But how? They must have put up enchantments-"

"No one...can Apparate...in or out. Except for them."

And you, she heard his unspoken words, knowing he wouldn't say anything in case they were being watched. Relief flooded her at his words.

"Then I can get us out!" she cried, elated. Maybe she didn't have to make the bargain! If she could figure out how to get out of her restraints she could grab Draco and Apparate out!

Draco shook his head then, his expression tormented when he lifted his eyes to hers. "It doesn't work like that. Precaution. Just you."

"No," she snapped harshly, knowing what he implied, anger welling at his words. "I'm not leaving you!"

"You have to."

"I'M NOT LEAVING YOU!" she screamed, remembering his words, _I'm not letting you go…_ How could she have let him? Why hadn't she hung on? All her reasoning now seemed so useless…

His eyes met hers, his face grave, his eyes haunted. "Please, Hermione. Don't make me watch you die."

His words hit her like a fist, but she shook her head, denying the thought. "It won't come to that."

"It already has," he whispered desolately, looking more wretched than she'd ever seen. "He brought you in here to taunt me. He knows I love you. He'll use you against me and I can't..."

His words broke off and he turned his face to the wall as if it was painful to look at her. Her heart squeezed at his declaration. "Draco-"

"You have to get out of here," he croaked desperately, turning back to her, his eyes pleading. "If not for me then for the Order. They need you."

"Draco-"

"Dammit, Hermione, you're wasting time! Just get out of here!" She could see how the words strained him. She knew if she left, they would kill him instantly. And if she stayed…they would kill her the moment they found out about her Mark, possibly force Draco to do it as punishment.

"I can't lose you," Hermione whispered, a stray tear rolling down her cheek at her admission. Though she hadn't even thought these words before they left her mouth, she knew it was true. She couldn't survive sentencing him to death. Draco locked eyes with her, his face relaxing slightly in an attempt to soothe her.

"I'll be alright," he lied. She knew he lied for her which made her cry all the more. "The Order needs you more than I do. You know that. You can't let them down, not after everything you've been through to get here."

"I can't leave you," she sobbed, her heart breaking at the thought, her head shaking vehemently against her predicament. "I can't do it, Draco. I love you. I'm so sorry for all the things-"

"It's not important," he snapped, his eyes wide as he tried to convince her. "But this is. _You have to get out of here."_

Hermione continued to shake her head, the pain in her shoulder intensifying until she had to bite back a cry. She wanted to argue but she knew if she tried to speak it would only come out as a sob.

"Hermione."

She could barely see him through the veil of tears, her chest hitching as she fought to hold them back. He was so beautiful, even now, covered in blood, battered and bruised. She had never seen anything so beautiful. Unearthly beautiful.

It was then that she realized. He was her horizon. Unobtainable.

 _No._ She refused to give up. She hadn't worked this hard just to lose it all now. He _loved_ her. It was all the motivation she needed. She would get them out of this, save them, save what they could have together. She wouldn't give in, not now, not anymore, not ever again.

"I won't leave you," she stated fiercely, her voice hard and thick from the tears she swallowed down, fighting for her Gryffindor courage.

Draco's head fell back in dismay and she could see the anguish in his face. Not for his injuries, but for her. They both knew she would likely be killed if she stayed, but it was a chance she was willing to take. All she needed was one little distraction to grab Draco and Apparate them to safety. She had to take that risk.

"Don't do this."

He sounded so defeated, but Hermione was determined. She would be strong for both of them.

"I have to."

"No, Hermione!" he yelled, his eyes catching hers once more, flames blazing in his pewter gaze. "You have to go back! It's the only way to stop him, you know that! Don't throw away everything we've done! Not now! Not when we're so close!"

"I can't leave you!" she cried again, knowing his words were true, knowing that she had to survive, to keep her secret, to find a way to use her Mark to defeat Voldemort, but adamantly refusing to back down from her decision. Didn't he understand that it would kill her? How could she leave, how could she escape, save herself, and leave him behind?

"You are their best chance, Hermione, maybe the only one they have left," he whispered, begging her with his eyes. "You can't give up."

He was right. She _knew_ he was right. How could she turn her back on everyone now, especially when she didn't know how bad things had gotten in their absence? The tears fell in earnest at the knowledge and she wept silently, torn between two impossible choices. She couldn't leave Draco to die, but she couldn't have herself killed when the Order needed her so much.

How could she get them both out of here? There had to be a way to save this situation...

"I'm going to tell them what I am," she finally explained, reverting back to her original plan. "I made a bargain with your father-"

"No, there's no bargaining!" he cried. "They won't fall for it, they'll kill you-"

"He promised he would set you free if I told him what we've been up to. We're going to make the Unbreakable Vow. They'll let you go and then I'll-"

"Hermione, they're not like you!" Draco roared, his fear for her making him come unhinged. "They don't care about deals or bargains! As soon as they find out what you did _they. Will. Kill. You._ They will never let you out alive!"

Her stomach sank. She hadn't thought that far ahead. Lucius hadn't made any promises about her welfare and she knew as soon as her master heard what she had done he would kill her. Painfully. She was too dangerous to be kept alive.

But it didn't matter. She would find a way to escape, she'd done it before. So she stared Draco down, determined to show her resolve.

"I have to try."

"No, you have to get out of here!"

"You said you wouldn't let me go," she accused, wishing she could go back to that moment in the ocean and hold him once more. "The same goes for me."

"Don't be stupid."

"Don't call me stupid."

He smiled at her then. She couldn't help the lift in her lips. He was irresistible. She suddenly wondered why she had ever been angry with him, how she hadn't spent every moment possible in his arms.

"I wish I could hold you," he murmured desolately and her breath stuttered. They shouldn't be here. They should be at Hogwarts, preparing for exams, basking in the sun, indulging in iced pumpkin juice and kisses that never ended. She longed to feel his arms around her once more, to bury her face in his neck and let him take away every fear, every worry. Would she ever touch him again?

"I can't live without you," she breathed, those happy images burning inside her with the reality of their dire situation. "How can you ask me to?"

"Because there's no other choice." He looked so broken, shackled like an animal, his features so much older than she remembered. "I'm so sorry I let you down."

"You didn't, Draco," she said, desperate to make him understand everything that he meant to her, everything he had done for her, everything he'd ever made her feel. "You have been so amazing, so strong, even when I couldn't be. I couldn't have done any of this without you."

"It was because of me you had to," he scoffed and she knew he blamed himself for their current predicament.

"No, Draco," she scolded. "I wanted to do this. You know that. These last weeks with you have been the best of my life, regardless of everything else. Being with you has been like being in a dream."

He smiled sadly. "It's time to wake up now, princess."

She shook her head again, the tears doubling. "I can't…"

"You can. You must."

How was he so strong and she so weak? Wasn't _she_ supposed to be the Gryffindor? Hermione squeezed her eyes shut against the horrible choice she knew she must make.

"How very touching."

Hermione jerked at the voice and looked around to see Lucius in the corner. How had he gotten in without them hearing his crack of Apparition?

"Well, I think I've seen just about as much as I can stand," he drawled striding over to Hermione. Fear clenched her in its grip at his terrifying gaze. Time was up.

"I certainly hope you used your time wisely. There's someone who would like to see you now."

Draco exploded with rage, screaming at his father, thrashing against his restraints. Lucius simply sneered down at him.

"Settle down, Draco," he purred, turning to eye Hermione. "We made a deal."

Hermione felt her cuffs fall away and whimpered with pain as her left arm fell uselessly to her side. Lucius flicked his wand at her and she was thrust to her feet, her shoulder on fire. Nausea roiled in her belly from the pain and she swayed where she stood as her eyes crossed.

"Hermione, please!" Draco roared, fear making his voice break. She chanced a look at him; tears were streaming down his maimed face. Her heart was shattering. _"Please!"_

She spent what felt like an eternity in his gaze before smiling sadly.

"Not without you."

Then it hit her like a freight train. How did the Death Eaters get their prisoners in if they couldn't Apparate with them? There had been no sound of Apparition when Lucius had entered…there was another way out! All she had to do was find it and-

Before she could act on this newfound knowledge, all thought was wiped from her mind which was now blessedly blank. Hermione felt nothing; no pain, no anxiety, no fear. She was floating in a realm of nihility; she had no worries, no choices. She was blissfully without care.

 _Take my wand._

Hermione looked down. Lucius was holding his wand out for her. Of course she would take it. It felt so warm between her fingers, the power thrumming beneath the surface calling to her.

 _Point it at Draco._

At Draco? Why would she do something like that?

 _Point it at Draco._

She could feel her arm raising in front of her. But why?

 _Kill him._

What? No! She could never hurt Draco! How could she even think-

 _Just say the words "Avada Kedavra."_

No! She would never-

 _Kill him!_

NO! Oh, gods, no, this wasn't her, this wasn't right. She had to fight, to get the voice out of her head. She shoved, breaking away from the hold, ripping at the words which chanted-

It was like a bucket of ice water had been thrown on her. Lucius had been trying to Imperious her. But he didn't know that Crouch Jr. had taught them how to throw it off in their fourth year, a skill which Moody had continued to encourage training in.

Draco's terrified eyes were wide, thinking she was still under the spell, about to kill him. In her peripheral she could see the strained appearance of Lucius who was attempting to force her to kill Draco. He didn't know she was no longer under his command.

 _And she had his wand._

Hermione couldn't stem the grin which erupted on her face. How could Lucius have been so _naïve?_

She turned, watched Lucius' face transform from concentration to horror.

"You see," Hermione trilled maniacally. "It's all about _leverage. STUPEFY!"_

Lucius' limp body flew across the room, cracking the mortar with the force of his impact. Obliviating the last several hours from his mind, Hermione bound and Silenced him for good measure and turned to a stunned looking Draco.

 _"Relashio!"_

His shackles sprang loose and he hissed in pain as she threw herself down beside him. He dragged her forward with a strangled sound, grasping her tightly with his good arm.

"Hermione," he rasped raggedly. "Hermione-"

She let out a dry sob, nodding into his neck, letting him know that she understood, that she felt it too.

"You were brilliant," he croaked, pressing her so hard against him it was as if he were attempting to meld them together. _"Gods,_ I thought I was going to lose you."

Hermione pulled him tighter, taking his comfort, the reality of what had just happened hitting her. "I was so scared-"

"You were perfect."

"You're hurt-"

"I'll heal."

Then he was yanking her face up and they were kissing, grabbing, feeling. Hermione emitted a strangled sound and Draco shuddered, deepening the kiss, breathing life back into her. As much as she wanted to sink in, they weren't safe, not yet, so she pulled away reluctantly.

"We have to hurry, they'll wonder why he hasn't returned with me yet," Hermione said, looking up at Draco's wan features. He nodded and she helped him stand, his face losing all color as he grunted in pain, canting dangerously. She took most of his weight, his right leg all but useless, his left quavering beneath him.

"Can you walk?" she asked nervously, glancing down at his mangled leg.

He shook his head, swallowing hard, his teeth clenched. "I don't think so."

Looking down at the wand which was now hers, she Conjured a splint quickly, making him groan. She wished she could do more but she didn't dare try to heal something so severe.

"Everything else will have to wait," she explained, casting a hasty glance at the immobile Lucius.

"It's fine, we need to move," Draco gasped, his good knee collapsing beneath him.

"Lean on me," Hermione bade, draping his arm around her good shoulder. He slumped against her, limping heavily, his feet dragging. It was all she could do to get him along.

She pulled him to the corner she'd seen Lucius appear and leaned against the wall, relieved when she sank right through, heaving Draco into the dim corridor on the other side.

"Where-?"

"Through that door," he panted nodding down the hall, sweat pouring down his temples. "You can...Apparate on the other side. I'm...a Malfoy again."

The door was at the end of the hall, miles away for all the good it did her. Draco outweighed her by a great deal and as he sagged further, she knew she'd never be able to carry him. Turning her new wand on him, he let out a small sound of shock as she Levitated him. His eyes closed the moment he was horizontal and fear lanced through Hermione. She was losing him, fast.

"We're almost there, hold on," she implored, jogging down the hall with him floating in front of her. With every movement her shoulder burned, but she shoved it back, focusing on the task at hand. "Just a few more steps."

"Guard…" Draco gasped, warning her. She cursed in frustration, she couldn't afford any more delays, she needed to get Draco to help _now,_ dammit!

The moment she reached the end of the hall Hermione eased him to the floor gently, her heart tripping when she noticed his still closed eyes, his shallow breath. Steeling herself, she waved her wand and the door flew open to reveal a bewildered looking Death Eater.

 _"Stupefy!"_

The Death Eater hit the ground, skidding across the flagstone. Ensuring they were alone, Hermione turned back to Draco, reaching for him before jerking around at a cry.

"Oi! Call the Dark Lord, they've escaped!" someone screamed down the hall. Hermione cursed and looked up to see a hooded Death Eater racing toward them. Panic spurred her into action. Knowing it would hurt them both, she clenched her teeth and Summoned Draco, catching him with one arm and falling harshly into the corridor, his weight unbalancing her.

Spells exploded the walls around them and red flashes of light seared her retinas as Hermione turned on the spot, a spell cracking against her back as her world went black.

.

.

.

A/N: Hey all! As promised, more cliffies! Mwahahaha! FINALLY they found the words! What do you think, was it worth the wait? ;)

AuraAuthor: You're not lost, you're right here! Hopefully this left you speechless as well! :P

CatwinWo: Sorry lady, I had to! But you know Ryn will always make up for her horrible cliffies by...leaving you with worse ones. Enjoy!

Perditrix: Is anything EVER okay in this story? Lol. Ah, sweet moment of relief before it's all gone to shit again...

loverstorylover2000: Your wait is up! But was it too late? :/

gabbygrl247: Bahaha, I love making you worry! Wonder how you're taking this new development?

BoredRavenclaw620: What a beautiful comment, thank you! I'm so glad you can see the depth of Hermione's ruminations. And now that she knows what her horizon is, will she EVER get it? Also, they are LITERALLY MURPHY'S LAW. Just ONCE can something go right? I dunno, honestly I can get pretty sadistic, so shit's up in the air and there is a fan going at high speed. Anything can happen.

chibi-Clar: Glad to have you along for the ride! Hope you liked this update!

LissaDream: There is always more, dear ;)

amberrwescott: Thank you so much for your comment! Jeez, you read the whole thing in two days? I honestly have no idea how many hours it would take now, lol. Hope I didn't make you wait too long! Cheers!

XOXO

RynStar15


	21. Novum Consilium

Draco sat bolt upright, his heart pounding, gasping as consciousness beckoned to him. Confused and disoriented, he attempted to assess his surroundings but it was pitch black, he couldn't see a thing.

His throbbing head spun enough to put him onto his back once more, his whirling mind trying to right itself. Where was he? How did he get there? And why did he feel as though he'd just been mowed down by the Hogwarts Express? He'd been having the strangest dream - pain, fear, and screams, the most terrible screams, screams that sounded just like-

Hermione.

A deranged growl broke from his lips as he forced his weak body back up, tumbling from the surface he was on to the hard floor, noting it was wood instead of stone. He was in the main house rather than the dungeons which meant he could Apparate them out of here - unless someone had thought to put up a temporary ward to prevent his escape.

Though every part of him hurt and his head had him careening at every movement, Draco could tell he'd been healed at least somewhat - his mother, he figured. She would have been infuriated at his treatment and the only thing his father had ever feared more than their Master's displeasure was his mother's.

Instantly he began making strategies. He needed to find Hermione. It was unlikely she would be housed above the dungeons which meant he had to somehow make it down there without anyone noticing - a daunting task. Even as doubt lurked at the corner of his mind at his impossible feat he shoved it back. It didn't matter how unlikely - he had to find her. He had to save her. He wouldn't let his horrid family touch one more hair on her head. He had no idea what had happened since she'd felled his father but he'd left her alone, left her to be captured once more. She must be terrified, hurting...if she was even alive.

 _No!_ He shook the thought from his head. She was alive, she had to be. And she needed him to be strong.

Suppressing a grunt of pain, Draco lifted himself heavily to his feet, cursing when his head swam, his right leg buckling weakly beneath the weight. Hands in front of his face, he felt forward in the dark room finally finding a wall and following it until he found the corner, then a raised slab of wood - a door-frame! His heart bounded in his chest knowing he was wandless, injured, weak, but stolidly prepared to break down the door and fight whoever was guarding it tooth and nail to find Hermione.

As it turned out, the first part of his heroic planned proved unnecessary as the handle turned beneath his hand. Slowly, silently, he eased the door open a crack, peering out into the dark, empty corridor, lit only by a slash of light emanating from a closed door at the end of the hall.

Where was his guard? And was he in the _service quarters?_ This certainly didn't look like any habitable portion of the manor... Even so, why hadn't his door been locked?

 _It's a trap, they're watching you, seeing what you'll do._ He cursed inwardly knowing he was securing his fate with every step, but he had to try, he couldn't give up on her...

Feeling naked without his wand, Draco slipped into the hall, creeping as quietly as he could, hoping he could at least use the element of surprise on his side for any attack he would be forced to mount.

Draco tensed as he heard voices. Following the sound, he stuck to the wall, trying to identify who was speaking. It sounded so familiar…

And then he heard a higher one, one he would know anywhere, one that made his heart clench with both elation and dread. Hermione! They had her! Relief crashed through him, dread on its heels. How was he supposed to get her out of here without a wand?

When she spoke again his mind was set. He didn't care what it took. Sneaking forward to the sliver of yellow light he peaked through the open door and nearly fell to his knees. No wonder the voice had sounded so familiar.

It was Harry Potter's.

Shoving open the door, all three of the teenagers residing beyond jumped, Hermione whipping around to see him, her eyes wide as saucers.

"Draco!" she cried, twitching as if she'd been about to hurl herself into his arms before thinking better of it. "You scared me to bits! Why aren't you lying down? I'll call for Madam Pomfrey-"

Her words died when he surged ungainly forward and yanked her into his arms, not caring that Potter and Weasley were there watching his every move, ignoring her slight protest as he took her mouth, his entire body quaking with relief that she was there before him, seemingly uninjured and safe, surrounded by her friends. He still had no idea what was going on but he didn't care about anything right that moment but to feel her against him once more.

When she finally responded on a shuddering sigh he held her harder, delved deeper, before slowing his movements, drawing back slightly so that he could gaze into her glazed eyes.

"You're alright?" he growled, assessing her, brushing back her thick hair. She nodded mutely, her eyes welling with emotion. She swallowed before she could speak, her fingers tracing his face as if memorizing him.

"I thought I was going to lose you," she whispered, her lips quaking as she forced back tears. "I'm so sorry, it's all my fault-"

"No, never-"

"I didn't mean to, I couldn't stop, I was already turning, I focused so hard but then the guard-"

"What are you-"

"-Impediment Jinx but it was too late and we were already Disapparating but the spell-"

"Hermione, slow down-"

"-I must have blacked out half-way through because then we landed and I looked down and you - and you-"

"Hermione, _what are you going on about?"_

"What she's _trying_ to say," Potter interjected, his voice strained, his eyes still wide with shock when Draco turned to him, Weasley gaping stupidly beside him. "Is that when she Disapparated with you back at the Manor she was hit by a curse and it broke her concentration."

"I'm so sorry," Hermione blabbered again, petting his face, tears now streaming down her cheeks looking so desperately upset that Draco couldn't help the bubble of laughter that rose at her vast over-reaction.

"Hermione, relax, nothing happened," he chuckled which only made her cry all the more.

"Actually, er, that's not entirely true, Malfoy," Potter said as Hermione buried her face into his chest and Draco just clutched her, utterly perplexed. "She, er, she accidentally splinched you."

Shocked, Draco looked down at his body for the first time and realized that his chest was bare but for a mass of bandages looped around him. His eyebrows shot up and he realized that there was indeed a stinging, numb sort of pain radiating down his right side from his ribs to his hips.

"Er, how bad?" he asked weakly as Hermione continued to hide against him.

"Pretty bad," Potter admitted gruffly. "Took a good chunk out of your side, had some organ damage. She did a number on her arm where she'd been holding you-"

At this Draco yanked her back, grabbing her heavily bandaged arm and pulling it up for inspection, looking over the rest of her wildly.

"Where else?" he growled. "Where else are you hurt?"

"Draco, I'm fine, it's you-"

"Has she been seen?" Draco rounded on the two boys who were still looking bewildered at their actions. Potter eventually cleared his throat on a nod.

"Madam Pomfrey looked her over when she was done with you. She wouldn't let anyone touch her until she knew you'd be alright. Starting to make a bit more sense now."

Hermione's lip quirked sheepishly as she looked over at her friends but Draco couldn't get himself to care about whether or not they approved. All that mattered was Hermione.

"You're alright?" he asked again, dragging her attention back to him. Her face softened, glistening with her tears.

"I'm fine,really," she whispered, reaching up to stroke his beard-stubbled chin. "You shouldn't be up, though, you should be resting-"

"I had to find you-"

"I'm here," she assured him, grabbing the hands which were wound tightly in her curls. "We're safe. They can't find us here."

"Where is _here?"_

"New headquarters," Potter offered. "For the time being."

 _"New_ headquarters?" Draco snapped. "What do you mean _new-"_

"Draco, please, sit down," Hermione pled, urging him towards the closest chair. _"Please,_ and then we can talk."

Not wanting to distress her any further, Draco allowed her to help him limp to a rough wooden chair and let her press him down, knowing she needed to fuss to appease her misplaced sense of guilt over splinching him.

"Ron, could you get Draco some of that tea you made me?" she asked, her fingers playing over Draco's dressings, ensuring they still held. "Ron?"

They both looked up at the dumbfounded ginger who hadn't moved from his slack-jawed stance. Potter smacked him on the arm and he shook his head once, looking between Draco and Hermione.

"Er-"

"Tea?" Hermione repeated, her voice gentle but leaving little room for argument. Weasley shook his head a second time before ambling for the kitchen wordlessly. Hermione snorted and Potter took a seat, nearly missing as his attention was focused on Hermione's hands where she worried over Draco.

"So, so you two..."

"Harry, not now," Hermione said softly, not able to look at him. "I promise I'll explain everything later."

Potter nodded jerkily. "Right. Yeah. Later."

"Later."

Potter graciously let the issue drop at Hermione's strained voice, though he continued to watch them with a strange fascination.

"Let me call Madam Pomfrey," Hermione begged, looking up at Draco with concerned eyes. "You're not supposed to be awake for several hours-"

"No need," Draco soothed, stilling her fretting. "Looks as though she's already done her job. Besides, I can't let you guys have all the fun. What's new, Potter?"

Potter let out a harsh laugh, one which held no humor. "We were just getting into that. Hermione's been in a right state over you; we were only just able to calm her down. Can't say I blame her with the way you looked when you arrived at Hogwarts. It's good to see you up and around, Malfoy. You gave us a right scare."

"Take more than a bit of splinching to do me in," he grinned, grabbing Hermione's hand which was unnecessarily tucking in his bandages and lacing his fingers through hers, placing them on his thigh to quell her useless ministrations. "I'm _fine."_

She nodded, though more tears welled. She thankfully held them back and turned when Weasley entered what appeared to be the dining room carrying two mugs of tea, setting them in front of Draco and Hermione, his eyes still wide, his mouth hanging slightly open as he stared at their entwined hands.

"Thank you, Ronald," Hermione said softly, laying her hand on his forearm and making him jerk. He nodded dumbly, scrubbing his face with his free hand.

"Yeah. Yeah."

To show his appreciation to the ginger for not making a scene as he had back when they were Valouris and Leon (though to be fair, he _had_ caught them in a rather unseemly state), Draco lifted his mug in cheers, nodding to Weasley. The latter shook his head in astonishment and rounded the table to sit heavily next to his best friend, still staring blatantly at their hands.

"Drink your tea, Hermione," he said dully, almost as an afterthought. Her fingers twitched nervously in Draco's grasp and he tightened his hold in solidarity as she reached for her mug. He realized belatedly that he'd taken away her chance to explain things to her friends and had unintentionally caused unnecessary drama, but he hadn't been able to think passed the blinding need to assure her safety - not after everything they'd been through.

Potter cleared his throat again, drawing everyone's attention back, but not before Draco concluded that his drink had been heavily doused in Pain Potion. He looked to Weasley to show his thanks as every muscle eased, but the distraught bloke was now staring intently at the charred wooden table. Instead, Draco lifted his gaze to Potter.

"I can't tell you how thankful I am you two are alright," he said, eyeing them both. "I can't imagine the last month has been easy..."

Hermione's head fell and Draco squeezed her hand tighter, likely cutting off circulation, but she only returned the pressure.

"No," she whispered, her eyes closing. "It has not."

"Hermione..."

"Harry, don't start," she snapped tensely. "We both knew what we were getting into. We're both adults, we made our choice. It's done."

Potter looked about to chew his tongue off but nodded tersely.

"I'm just glad you're home."

"Yeah, it's about the only thing that gone right with this whole bloody plan," Weasley scoffed, sinking further into his chair, his eyes not leaving the tabletop.

Draco could see the fatigue on their faces for the first time, a disheveled air about them.

"What happened?" he asked, looking between his classmates, remembering that on this side their relationship was much less tense, the two having had several months to warm to the fact that Draco was one of them. He even reminded himself that he'd laughed at a joke or two of the Weasley's before he'd been thrust into another dimension where the latter had wanted nothing more in life than his castration. When neither spoke, Draco pressed further.

"Where are the others?"

Potter scratched his messy head and then shuffled through the piles of parchment scattered along the rough table nervously.

"Most of the Order is at Hogwarts," he answered, sliding what Draco now recognized as the Marauder's Map across the table and he leaned over, not missing the pained expression on Hermione's face at his obvious injury when he winced. "The Death Eaters mounted an attack on the school about a week after you left. Looking for you."

Draco met Potter's strained green gaze and asked again. "What happened?"

Together, Potter and Weasley explained how everything had fallen apart in thirty short days. Upon their disappearance, the Death Eaters instigated a search for Draco, sending out a warrant for his arrest, promising safety to the families of anyone who turned him in, killing ones who couldn't give them his whereabouts. The Ministry fell within in a week under their demented wrath and anyone known to be connected with the Order was hauled in, questioned, and most of them killed.

"Who?" Hermione choked. Weasley stared at the ground as Potter steeled himself.

"They found Mad-Eye first. Cornered him. They knew he was the strongest. He killed himself before they could question him." Hermione gave a hard sound of pain, lifting her fist to her mouth as Draco's stomach clenched. "Then they went for Tonks-"

"No!" Hermione gasped, her hand clutching her mouth in horror.

"It's alright, she got away!" Weasley assured her quickly. She looked at him desperately.

"Your brothers?"

Weasley blanched, withdrawing the hand he'd placed on the table to soothe Hermione, falling into himself in grief.

"Percy tipped Mr. Weasley off before they could get to him," Potter said lowly with a glance to his best friend whose gaze was back on the table. "We all tried to get him to come with us, but Percy refused to go into hiding. He claimed he knew who the Death Eaters were after. It wasn't long before they found out who was hiding people."

Hermione made a sound low in her throat, leaving Draco's hold to round the table and kneel beside Weasley, dragging his hands into hers, forcing him to look at her. Though Draco burned with jealousy at their intimacy, he couldn't help but feel pity as fat tears rolled down Weasley's cheeks, his pain mirrored in Hermione's gaze as she stood and dragged him into her chest.

Potter went on to explain how a dozen others went missing, how someone must have been tortured into telling the Death Eaters about their safe houses, explaining why Draco and Hermione had been found at Shell Cottage.

"Don't tell me they found headquarters too!" Hermione bemoaned from the seat she'd taken next to Weasley. The boys nodded and Hermione and Draco looked at each other in horror. Dread filled Draco until he felt sick.

"So what you're telling me is that Hermione went through hell for _nothing?"_ he growled dangerously, rising so that he stared intimidatingly down at Potter and Weasley, his entire body vibrating with anger. "The whole point of having her take the Mark was so that she could lead them to Headquarters!"

"Yeah, well, we weren't expecting your father to tear up England and lead a bloody massacre looking for you, were we?" Weasley snapped, his cheeks reddening.

"It's nobody's fault!" Hermione intervened, looking between the three, sensing danger. However, instead of calming Draco, Hermione's attempt to salvage the situation angered him further.

"So now what the _fuck_ are we supposed to do now?" Draco roared, seeing red. "You throw your best friend off to be tortured and raped and almost fucking _murdered_ for NOTHING?"

"Draco!"

"Do you have _any_ idea what she went through for you?!" Draco screamed at Potter.

"Draco it's not their fault! It's no one's fault!" Hermione cried, running to pull him back from where he'd leaned threateningly across the table toward the Chosen One.

"You think I don't know?" Potter yelled back, rising to stand him down. "You think I haven't spent every damn night in agony worrying over you two?"

"A bloody lot of good worrying does us when Hermione is out there risking her fucking _life-!"_

"Draco, stop, you're not helping anything!" Hermione implored, grabbing his arms and stopping his weak advances. "Please, just calm down-"

"You better have a plan, Potter!" Draco raged, his fist cracking against the tabletop, ready to break every damn thing in this room. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Everything they had done, every night of pain and anguish Hermione had gone through, all of her close calls, all of the sacrifices she had made had all been for nothing…

"What do you think I'm trying to do here?" Potter screamed, gesturing to the papers on the table.

"You think we've just been sitting on our arses?" Weasley chimed in, standing as well.

"No, of course not!" Hermione soothed, glancing between the three beseechingly. "We know you've been doing the best you can-"

Draco started to comment on what their "best" had done but Hermione turned her pleading gaze upon him. He could see the streaks in her dirty face where the pain of lost friends had made their mark, the exhaustion painted below her eyes. And though a part of him wanted to scream and rage he tucked it down, knowing he was only upsetting Hermione further.

"Look, we're all tired," she said, turning to Weasley and Potter. "It's been a long night for all of us. But fighting isn't going to get us anywhere. We have to stick together, now more than ever. Ron, are Bill and Fleur alright?"

Weasley looked over at her as if she were speaking Parseltongue before he visibly suppressed his emotions for his distraught friend, his lips twisting before he nodded. "Er, yeah, yeah they weren't home when the cottage was taken over. The Burrow was ambushed first and after that we had everyone evacuate."

Setting aside their animosity for Hermione who looked ready to snap at the slightest provocation, Potter and Weasley explained about the evacuation and the frantic construction of new safe houses. The one they were in was now Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's, a far cry from the Burrow, but now that Draco had been told he could see Molly's homey touches about the nearly barren shack.

"Where are your parents?" Draco asked Weasley, notably extending his olive branch, to which Hermione softened in response.

"Dad is on duty at Hogwarts. After the attack most of the Order has been stationed there. Parkinson, Zabini, Crabbe and Goyle were caught trying to bring the Death Eaters in using the cabinet you fixed," he glared at Draco, though bit back any angry retort. "They've been expelled and mum pulled us and Ginny out; we're to be owled our exams."

"Is she at Hogwarts as well?" Hermione questioned.

"No, she and Ginny are with Tonks," Potter replied, looking wan. "Remus has been missing since the full moon and she's been so sick what with the pregnancy…"

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione moaned, her face crumpling. Potter looked ready to snap the quill in his hand but kept his composure.

"We've been spending most of our time trying to construct new safe houses and with all the new guards stationed at Hogwarts there hasn't been much time to spare on making a new plan," Potter went on, obviously not wanting to talk about his pseudo-godfather. "Besides, it was impossible to know if you two…we'll need to know everything."

"Well, where the bloody hell is everyone?" Draco exclaimed, looking around as if Order members would come shooting out of the woodworks. "If we have to come up with a whole new plan why aren't they here?"

"Mum made them all go back to Hogwarts after they brought you here," Weasley explained. Draco turned to Hermione who sighed heavily, her exhaustion evident.

"After you passed out in the dungeons I was able to Apparate to Hogsmead," she explained, looking pained. "Professor Flitwick and Mr. Weasley had been waiting for us and led us safely into the grounds after stabilizing you. We got you to Madam Pomfrey, thankfully without any students noticing, and these two showed up with the cavalry but I was able to beg them off until the morning so you could rest. When Madam Pomfrey approved you for traveling, she and Mr. Weasley brought us here and Harry was able to talk them into letting him and Ron to watch over us for the night."

Draco nodded, angry at himself that Hermione had been forced to save them from his family home, alone and injured, that he had done nothing to help, that he'd once again left everything to her. Draco moved to pull her into his arms again but was interrupted.

"Hermione," Potter murmured, his voice low. Their eyes met and it was if they were having a silent conversation, Draco and Weasley left to watch them curiously. Finally, Hermione nodded and Potter stiffened.

"What?" Weasley finally spat, looking as confused as Draco felt.

"She did it," Potter croaked, looking as if he was going to be sick. He had never seen Potter act like this. Weasley's jaw dropped as his head snapped from Hermione to Potter and back again, obviously picking up on what they had silently communicated, leaving Draco bewildered.

"No…" Weasley whispered, horrified.

"Well, isn't that the whole reason we did this?" she scoffed, her right hand going almost mechanically to her left arm making Draco's stomach clench.

"You're-you, but…I mean, yeah, it was, but I just didn't think-"

"Didn't think what, Ron?" Hermione snapped, rounding on him. "Didn't think I could do it? Didn't think I was capable?"

"Well, no, that's not what I…I just didn't think the plan would work!"

"It did."

Then Potter was shoving his chair back, ripping past Draco to pull Hermione into his arms and holding her so tightly that Draco worried he might suffocate her. She hugged him back, her hand at his neck, comforting even as she sought comfort, their bond beyond words.

"I'm so sorry," he choked out. Draco looked to Weasley who seemed unperturbed by the sudden display of affection. Was this how it always was between the three and Draco had simply never noticed? Would he have to grow used to seeing these two men hold his woman as intimately as he did?

"This isn't your fault, Harry," she whispered back. After several long moments, Potter pulled away and looked at Hermione, pushing her hair out of her face with a familiarity that fed the green monster in Draco's chest. After a long moment he sighed, his hand moving down to her shoulder which he squeezed gently.

"You need to rest. Both of you. We'll get back to this in the morning."

Hermione leaned up and kissed Potter's cheek, dropping another on Weasley's when he came to hug her goodnight. Potter turned to Draco and held out his hand as his alternate self had done the last time he'd seen him.

"It's good to have you back, Malfoy," he grunted, not quite meeting his eye. "Thank you for bringing her home."

"Pretty sure that was entirely her doing," Draco admitted, turning to Hermione and gazing at her with longing admiration, once more uncaring about their audience as he reached for her, drawing her close when her hand slipped into his. Weasley cleared his throat uncomfortably, turning away from their obvious display of affection.

"Yes, well," Potter grunted. Hermione smiled softly at her friends from under Draco's arm.

"We'll talk tomorrow," she promised.

"Yeah. Tomorrow."

Hermione led the way down the hall, taking Draco's weight once more as he limped sluggishly, the pain kicking in through the potion Weasley had slipped him. The moment the door closed, however, he dragged her into his arms, kissing her long and hard, melting when she returned the sentiment with similar desperation and enthusiasm.

He could remember all too vividly the sight of her shackled across the dungeon, beaten and terrified, and he not able to do anything about it. He dove into her mouth with frantic fervor, attempting to forget how helpless he'd felt, how terrified he'd been that she wouldn't leave, that she would die at the hands of the Dark Lord and he would never again feel the warmth of her arms around him, the softness of her lips beneath his.

"Hermione," he murmured against her lips, leaning his forehead against hers, breathing her in. He felt her fingers stroke the hair at the nape of his neck, soothing him.

"It's alright," she whispered, as if she could read his thoughts.

"I thought that they…" Draco couldn't finish the sentence, couldn't put words to the images he'd held of Hermione being at the mercy of his family. He pulled her tighter against him, just to ensure himself that she was real, that she was safe.

"It's over now."

He shuddered, remembering how her eyes had glazed over, how she'd turned his father's wand on him, how she had somehow fought back, saved them both. If the Dark Lord had been aware of how powerful a witch Potter had as his best friend, he had hidden his fear well.

Draco kissed her again, softer this time, his fingers brushing back her hair. Gazing deep into her brown eyes he saw everything he almost lost and was struck with an overwhelming determination to protect her, this woman who had very nearly given everything for him.

"I love you, Hermione," he whispered, watching her expression soften as the back of his fingers brushed over her cheek. "I should have said it before; I shouldn't have waited until it was almost too late…"

She smiled, a look which made his heart tumble ever more.

"Better late than never."

They made love slowly, silently, with kisses that lingered and caresses that soothed. Hours later, with Hermione curled against his chest, Draco watched the sun peek over the horizon, the impossibility of their situation weighing on him like an anchor. With their options so drastically limited, Hermione's chances of surviving an encounter with the Dark Lord had severely plunged. Their leverage was gone and her illicit acquisition of the Dark Mark would see her murdered on the spot. He'd been wary about sending her off the face the Dark Lord yet again, especially since she'd all but conned him right under his non-existent nose and had proven the hold he had over her. Now, without anything worthwhile to give him…Draco shuddered and his hold tightened on her slumbering form, imagining the horrible punishments which awaited her.

Everything had changed. Their mission was sunk; her part in this was over. He would not see her thrown to the wolves again just because the Order couldn't keep up with their end of the deal. It was time to finish this ordeal once and for all. With so much at risk now he entrusted this task to no one. Potter may be the one who had to kill the Dark Lord, but Draco would ensure that when Potter went to strike his deadly blow, it would ring true.

.

.

.

Hermione woke alone, Draco having already joined the others. Stretching like a cat, a smile on her face, she couldn't help the blissful mood she found herself in. She knew she should be worried, terrified really, at the thought of what was going to happen now. But somehow, she wasn't so scared anymore. Draco loved her. They'd survived their month of horror, escaped the clutches of the Death Eaters, and though a little worse for wear, they were alive, they were safe. Whatever may come, they could handle it.

They would figure something out. Didn't they always? Some solution would come to them and they would all be ready to execute the next step in their plan to destroy her master and everything would turn out alright - she could feel it.

Hermione made her way into the kitchen expecting to see Draco and Ron and Harry hard at work and was therefore surprised to see Mrs. Weasley alone cracking eggs into a large bowl.

"Good morning, Hermione!" the older woman smiled. Hermione remembered the look of utter relief on Mrs. Weasley's face as she'd fallen into the hospital wing and saw her all-but-adopted daughter returned home, remembered the comfort she took in the woman's strong embrace. If she had ever before doubted if Mrs. Weasley loved her as one of her own, last night had assured her that the woman's love knew no ends.

"Did you sleep well?" the Weasley matron asked, nodding her towards the table even as she flicked her wand at the tea kettle to start it boiling.

"Yes, thank you," Hermione replied distractedly, looking around. "Where are the boys?"

"Where do you think? It will take a crowbar to get them up this early," Mrs. Weasley said, returning to the eggs. Confused, Hermione tried to quell the tiny prickle of unease as Mrs. Weasley continued. "I tried to check on Draco last night but the door was locked. If he's not up in a few minutes I'll have to wake him, I'm afraid. I hate to bother either of you, after all you've been through. I keep saying that you all are too young to be taking risks like this but no one will listen-"

Hermione didn't catch the end of Mrs. Weasley's monologue. The door had been locked for a good reason and, depending on when Mrs. Weasley had gotten in, luckily Silenced. Without excusing herself Hermione tore back down the hall, stopping to glance in the open bathroom before darting to what was supposed to be her room. There Ginny snored softly on one of the beds, the other still made as she'd never slept in it. A quick look in the boys' room where Ron was drooling heavily and Harry laid half-off the tiny bed confirmed her fear. Knowing it was no use, she looked once more in Draco's room and in the sparse living room before dashing back to the kitchen, her heart in her throat.

"Draco's gone!"

.

.

.

Hermione felt numb, the voices around her little more than muted humming. Her brain was waterlogged, saturated, as if no more information could possibly lodge itself in.

It didn't make sense. Where could he have gone? There was no sign of struggle - none of the alarms had sounded, no barriers had been breached, indicating he had left of his own accord.

But why? They had ended the night on more than good terms…at least she had thought so. She tried to think of something, any little thing that she might have done or said or insinuated that could possibly have angered him into leaving, but she was at a complete loss. Not a single word was exchanged during or after they made love and he hadn't seemed cold or distant. He had held her so close, played with her hair, making her smile into the dark. There was not a single indication that he was mad at her or that he regretted his actions. And why should he? She'd only just saved his bloody life! So how does he repay her? By taking off in the middle of the night, endangering them all! They'd trusted him and he had…he had…

She couldn't wrap her mind around it. This wasn't happening. There had to be another explanation! But without one to provide to the others, they all had to accept the very real possibility that he had duped them. The Daily Prophet had said nothing to indicate that Draco had been caught, but then it would make sense for them to use his absence as a continued excuse to question and torture innocent people.

Hermione felt sick as Order members attempted to figure out everything he knew so they could prepare for what they might be up against while Mrs. Weasley pleaded his case, vouching for his innocence, begging that they send out search parties. Hermione's heart rooted alongside Mrs. Weasley, images of him somehow being coaxed or blackmailed to go back, the sight of him beaten and broken burning behind her eyes. But her mind was far too practical to give her heart any more leverage. Draco had left of his own will. That much was certain - even if the reasoning was foggy. The best option they had was to strike hard and strike fast, before he had time to give away any information.

Hermione was now their only weapon. Her memory of the Malfoy Manor along with everything Draco had told her about the place and her own accessibility made her their single source into the Death Eater's inner core. Ignoring the knowing stares of Ron, Harry, and Ginny who alone knew she had not stayed in her own room last night, she drew maps, explaining everything she knew of rooms she had visited, the secret magic of the dungeons in case someone was captured. Though they had little time to spare, she reported an abridged version of Draco and her trip into the other dimension, of the possibility of an Arcavi, watching everyone's eyes widen, their shoulders sag. With her every word they realized how dire their situation had become. She didn't delve into the Blaise/sex aspect, simply making it look as though she had escaped on the basis of not wanting to receive the damn thing and not because she couldn't. But as they all wholeheartedly agreed with her decision and congratulated her on her spectacular getaway, she was not inclined to explain further.

She saw many of them eye her covered left arm as if expecting to see through the fabric to the Mark below. No one questioned her story but she could feel their skepticism like a pall over her.

"It's not that we don't believe you, love," George finally spoke up. "If anyone here was to do those things it would be you…but...can we see it?"

"George!" Mrs. Weasley cried in disbelief, looking ready to clobber her middle child.

"It's alright. I would feel the same," Hermione said soothingly. Without hesitation she pulled up her robe and held her arm out for everyone to see. Some hissed, a few gasped, the twins exclaimed that it was "wicked!" as Mrs. Weasley burst into tears and Ginny leapt forward to soothe her while Harry's hand somehow found Hermione's. Dropping her arm, she squeezed his hand hard, knowing he felt the weight of her burden as heavily as she did.

Hermione waited for everyone to calm down before addressing them again.

"The Manor is heavily guarded, not visible to the naked eye," she explained. "One can only access it under the protection of a Death Eater. As there is only one of me and many of you, we would be incapable of a surprise attack. My plan then is for me to sneak in undetected, place Lucius Malfoy under the Imperious Curse and force him to remove the wards. I will then signal you with my Patronus with as much information as I can gather about the Death Eater's numbers and positions."

"You can't go in there alone!" Mrs. Weasley cried. "You'll be killed!"

"I will take Harry's Invisibility Cloak, they won't even know I'm there," Hermione continued.

"Hermione," Harry turned to her curiously. "Where is my Invisibility Cloak?"

Hermione blanched. It had been in her satchel when they had taken the potion…along with Atrum quod Ignotus...

"Harry, I'm so sorry, they took it! They have it and they have the potion book as well, it's marked, they have all the evidence they need, they'll know what we've done!"

It was no wonder Lucius wanted to take her straight to her master rather than kill her off. Draco was expendable at that point, only a liability as Hermione had all of the proof they desired.

"They can't necessarily know you've taken the Mark," Mr. Weasley said, his brow furrowed in concentration. "We may still have the advantage of surprise. You can take Mad-Eye's old cloak for the time being, listen around, see what you can find out. We need as much information as possible before we plan any kind of attack."

"What about the snake?" Harry worried.

"I can try to locate its position," Hermione said, eager to make up for her loss. "She will probably be kept wherever Voldemort is. In fact, give me the sword, just in case I-"

"Wait, I thought this was just for you to gather information?" Harry argued.

"If I'm provided with an opportunity-"

"Yeah, I mean, if she can off the snake so much the better!" Ron agreed.

"And if you kill the snake they will murder you on the spot!" Harry snapped.

"Harry, if I have a chance to get rid of the last Horcrux I'm going to take it," Hermione replied. "They know too much already. Every minute we wait could be our last chance. Draco could have told them anything, he could have had his memory searched, been given Veritaserum. We do not have time to spare! This has to be it. We kill the snake and then you have a straight shot at Voldemort - it's our only chance and you know it. If Nagini is murdered right there in the Manor they will fall apart from the inside, Voldemort will be furious. It would be our best time to strike, in the middle of that confusion and fear. If we can busy the others, Harry, you can get to Voldemort, do what you have to do. It's time to end this once and for all."

She could see that her words had effect. Most of the room was nodding in agreement, some of their faces shining with excitement, others with determination or worry. Harry finally backed down; Mrs. Weasley's objections were silenced.

Preparations were made. Hermione went over and over the plan with the others even though she knew in her heart it would never work. As soon as Voldemort found out she had the Mark he would kill her. But this was the only way she could find out what had happened to Draco to make him want to leave.

She was so used to ignoring the burning it took her a few moments to recognize that familiar tug, that all-consuming need to be next to her master's side. Her heart raced as she pulled up her sleeve, stared down at the Mark that glowed black against her pale skin.

"Hermione?" Harry asked nervously, his hand coming to cover hers. "Is he-?"

She nodded and looked up into Harry's anxious face. "New plan."

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.

A/N: A MILLION APOLOGIES for this extended wait! I know, I know, I'm the worst! But I swear I'm doing the best I can to get this out to you! Hope you enjoyed their stunted homecoming. Come on, you know I couldn't leave them to a cozy welcome, could I? Really, you're lucky they're still breathing at this point... SO MUCH LOVE!

lovestorylover2000: I'm glad you enjoyed the cell scene, it's one of my favorites! So angsty! Sorry for the wait, but I hope this was worth it!

chibi-Clar: Hey, the suspense is what makes it great! The fun is just about to begin!

Malfoylover-ish: I'm so glad I made you cry (in the best sense, of course!). I'm so happy to invoke emotions with my stories - that's what it's all about, after all! It's wonderful to have you on board, hope you enjoy the rest of the story!

AuraAuthor: More cliffhangers, you say? I mean, I thought that's what you say, but my eyesight isn't the best, so I'll just go ahead and leave another one here for you. But please don't die my dear, as I so look forward to your reviews ;)

amber. : Sorry, this was a little more than a day! But I'm glad you liked the last chapter. This one is a little more transitional, but the action starts up again next chappie, I promise!

LissaDream: I'm happy to have pleased :)

Perditrix: Wait no longer! But did everything go as well as you'd hoped? I mean, they were safe and sound, so I feel like I played rather nice...for, you know, most of the chapter...

BoredRavenclaw620: I might enjoy you speechless even more than your eloquence! And yes, this Lucius is a right bastard and I do so love it! So much more pain to be had, never fear! ;)

CatwinWo: Look! Look! They escaped! And they're safe and happy and together and oh, shit, my bad... Um... Don't hate me? :P

AllyRose4129: Your wish is my command!

XOXO  
RynStar15


	22. Ultima Sunt Unum

Draco looked up at his family home looming darkly in the weak early-morning moonlight, a sense of longing nearly overtaking him. He could vividly remember how it used to be; hot summers full of iced pumpkin juice and servants waiting on his every need, endless winters attending extravagant parties and hundreds of presents waiting at the foot of his bed on Christmas morning. Rainy nights when his mother read him Tales of Beedle the Bard before bed, his father teaching him to ride a broom in their lavish gardens. Chasing the peacocks which strutted cockily about with Blaise and, when they were older, practicing their newfound spells on them.

Shaking his head to rid himself of the moment of nostalgia, Draco crept forward slowly, eyes on the guards that were half-snoozing against the wall on either side of the door. Neither seemed to notice the slight shift of earth from his Disillusionment Charm as he made his way toward them. With several quick flicks of Weasley's borrowed wand (as his and Hermione's were still somewhere in the Manor), both Death Eaters were Stupified and mounted against the wall with a Sticking Charm to look as if they were still standing of their own accord. He turned to the door and took a steadying breath, going over his hasty plan.

If he could just find Potter's cloak he might be able to make his way to the Dark Lord undetected. All he needed was a clear shot; just one moment the Dark Lord's back was turned so he could off the snake. He couldn't dwell on the most likely chance that he would be caught. He knew he wouldn't survive a fight with the Dark Lord but it didn't matter; it was Potter who had to end this. He was the only one with the power to do so and Draco was ready to die to give Potter that chance.

The thought of death terrified him, but not so much anymore that he could allow someone else to do this task for him. An image of Hermione crossed his mind and he knew he could do this - _had to_ \- for her. This was to keep her safe. He knew what she planned and could no longer step aside and allow her to put herself in danger while he waited on the sidelines, twiddling his thumbs. This was his fight now, he would take this final burden from her, his only gift; his life.

Resolved, Draco slowly eased the mahogany door open, eyes darting about the entry hall for any sign of activity, though at this hour all but the few unfortunate night guards would be abed. Draco held his breath and listened, but no footsteps sounded, no hushed voices could be heard, the manor eerily still. The open door to the parlor revealed his father leaning over a piece of parchment, his long hair unrestrained, blocking his face from Draco's view, though his shoulders and white-knuckled grip on the table were evidence to his strain. Clearly, he was distraught over his son's second disappearance.

Creeping stealthily forward, Draco made his silent way up the grand staircase, his senses on high alert. It was strange to see the halls this empty. There were always people milling about the manor, trading information and practicing grotesque spells on helpless Muggles, but only his sleepless father seemed to be awake at this lonely hour.

He slipped down the side hallway which led to the Malfoy private rooms. Glancing around to be sure he was alone, Draco pressed his palm against the door at the end of the hall and let out his breath when the soft _click_ of the lock releasing sounded at his touch. Only a Malfoy could open these doors, though he'd worried his wary father might have taken measures to bar his entrance. It seemed his father had misjudged him once more.

Draco slid into the room quickly and closed the door behind him, peering around his parent's rooms for the first time in over a year. The effusive décor was still unchanged; the cream eiderdown and dark stained Agar wood furnishings attesting to their wealth and prestige. He'd always felt as though he were too dirty, too rowdy to be in a place such as this; every little accent neatly placed, every velvet draping hung just so.

"Lucius?"

Draco's heart raced as his mother strode out of the powder room, tucking a stray hair back into her intricate coif. Damn, he'd been counting on her being asleep so he could easily Stun her and go about with his plan.

Narcissa's shrewd eyes quickly caught his outline and her wand was in her hand in the blink of an eye and Draco quickly undid the charm and raised his arms in surrender before she could curse him and alert others.

"It's me, mother."

Narcissa's eyes widened as he appeared, her wand wavering.

"Draco?" she whispered, disbelieving. She tightened her hold on her wand, her eyes hard, and Draco wondered if he'd overestimated her maternal instincts, worrying for the first time that she might turn him in, that Lucius had finally succeeded in turning her against their son as he had long ago.

For a moment she said nothing at all, but the words that finally escaped her tightly pressed lips took him aback.

"How did you break the vase in the great hall when you were eight?" she demanded. Draco raised his brow. Who would impersonate a wanted wizard in order to sneak _into_ the place he had only just escaped _from?_ Wary of her suspicious nature, Draco answered.

"I was trying to hide the Romanian Longhorn egg I'd stolen from Knockturn Alley," he replied, remembering how the jet egg had sat tauntingly on the edge of the cart while the hag had bartered with his mother about the price of dragon heartstring. Draco had longed for a pet and knew from the stories he'd read that he could tame it, train it just like in the tales about Peter Pumpernell and his pet dragon. He'd begged his mother for it but was shut down, not able to get a word in edgewise.

Unused to being denied anything, he'd taken it in an act of defiance, slipping it beneath his cloak. He'd had every intention of hurrying it to his room where he'd place it in the fire and, when it hatched, show his parents that he was big enough to take care of his new pet. Puerilely, Draco had pulled it out from under his cloak as soon as they'd landed in the entryway, waving it at his mother's departing back with his tongue stuck out. He'd been about to run upstairs to his room but Dobby had popped into the hall just then to take his traveling cloak and in a desperate attempt to conceal the egg, Draco had dropped it quickly into the vase next to the door so the elf wouldn't see.

"And what happened to the Longhorn?" Narcissa grated out, her emotions heavily guarded, though Draco detected the slightest tremble in her wand hand.

"The egg broke when I dropped it into the vase," Draco answered lowly, his eyes locked onto his mother's, begging her to see the truth. "When I realized what I'd done I broke the vase to get to the egg but the dragon was already dead. You helped me bury it in the garden. You promised to never tell father."

He saw relief swim across her face briefly, but she kept her back straight as she lowered her wand.

"You've been with the Order?"

"Yes."

"You're one of them now?"

Draco did not look away from her pleading gaze. "Yes."

She pursed her lips and gave a tight nod, swallowing before she could speak again. "What are you doing here?"

"There is something I need to do," he said and Narcissa shook her head, glancing nervously at the door.

"No Draco, you must leave right away-"

"I'm not running anymore," he said, keeping her gaze.

"The Dark Lord will know you're here, he set up alarms in case you returned-"

"Then I will need to move quickly," he continued determinedly, staring her down, proving his determination. "I have to do this, mother. Please understand."

Narcissa took a deep breath and gazed into his face almost longingly before yielding.

"How can I help?"

Taken aback, Draco said nothing for a minute. He hadn't figured his mother would fight him or turn him in, but he certainly hadn't expected her to offer assistance.

"I need to find Potter's invisibility cloak," he finally said, taking whatever help he could find, knowing she wouldn't turn on him now. "It was in the bag I had when I was brought here. Do you know where-?"

"Your father confiscated it off Dolohov," she answered swiftly, hurrying to the large wardrobe in the corner. With a wave of her wand the back panel disappeared and she drew out the leather satchel. Draco snatched it from her, hardly believing when everything he'd taken with him on the mission was accounted for.

"What are you going to do?" she asked, her tone worried as he dug out the cloak and slung it over his shoulder which instantly disappeared.

"I'm going to kill the snake," he admitted honestly, pocketing Hermione and Weasley's wands as well as the basilisk fang Hermione had snuck from the stash at headquarters.

"Nagini?" his mother asked confusedly. "But why-?"

"The less you know, the better," he stated, tossing the bag with the book and leftover ingredients back into his parent's wardrobe, sparing one lat glance at the reminder of his previous month with Hermione, using it to steel himself before turning back to his mother. "I need to get to that snake. Do you know where it is?"

"She never leaves the Dark Lord's side," Narcissa claimed, looking confused at his odd request. "Even with the cloak you'll never get close enough to her without him noticing."

"It doesn't matter," he murmured grimly, feeling the potion book boring into his back as if Hermione's eyes were there instead, pleading with him not to do this impossible task. "It has to be done."

His mother looked appalled, as if he'd slapped her across the face with his conviction.

"Draco, don't-"

"I'm sorry, mother, but I have to."

He turned to go but her bony fingers grasped his upper arm, holding him back though he refused to turn to her, knowing the pained look in her eye might stall him, stop him from doing what he knew he must do.

"Draco, if you go now you'll be killed!" Narcissa cried, her voice cracking in fear.

"I know."

He made to pull his arm from her grip but with strength he never knew she had, she tightened her hold and whipped him around to face her.

"Listen to me!" she snapped, her icy eyes catching fire. "You'll never get close to him if you go like this. He's infuriated you and the Mudblood escaped-"

"Hermione," Draco growled, watching his mother jerk at the enmity in his voice before understanding smoothed her features. She nodded once as if accepting the reason for his seemingly sudden change of heart.

"Draco, I will not stop you from doing what you think you must, but do not act rashly," she warned, her voice softer than before. "The Dark Lord will have noticed your presence by now, he'll be calling for your father and I to question us any minute. Follow us in that cloak, I can distract him long enough for you to reach the snake. Strike when you can and as soon as you do - run, I'll create a diversion. No matter what happens, you must get out. Do you understand me?"

Draco shook his head adamantly, knowing what would happen if the Dark Lord thought his mother was in any way involved. "No, I won't leave you to take the fall-"

"You will," she said harshly, her nails biting into his skin through his cloak, her face set, her eyes hard. "I have not done a single thing right by you, Draco. I was supposed to protect you, but I failed you. I was weak; I will not be so any longer."

She straightened to her full height, looking up into his eyes with a steely resolve he felt all-too well. "You will do as I say. I am still your mother. Kill the snake and then leave this place, do not return, not for any reason, not until it's over. Do you understand?"

They both jumped when the distinct _click_ of the lock sounded through the room. Narcissa motioned for him to put on the cloak and he'd only just covered his feet when his father strode into the room, his face murderous.

Draco stared into the hard grey eyes of his sire and knew an instant of fear. Lucius scanned the room, his wand raised. Noticing the open wardrobe, he turned to his wife.

"Where is he?" Lucius demanded, his hands shaking in rage. Narcissa seemed not to notice or care that her husband was incensed, her face a mask of indifference as she raised a brow.

"Who?" she asked coolly.

"Do not act coy with me, Narcissa," Lucius snarled. "Where is he?"

"Either explain yourself or leave, I grow tired of your riddles," she replied, turning to her vanity and seating herself in her chair, checking her hair nonchalantly. Draco watched the fury crystallize in his father's gaze, watched as his hands stilled, control snapping back into place. When he moved towards the open wardrobe his steps were purposeful. When he pulled out the bag with nothing but the potions book in it, he appeared almost bored. Placing the bag on the bed gently, he turned to his wife who was closing a tube of lipstick.

"Your son is in the house," Lucius drawled, walking slowly toward her, his wand clutched tightly at his side, ready to strike. "His wand is gone. As is the Mudblood's."

"Hermione."

 _"What?"_

"Her name is Hermione, dear. There is no call for boorish monikers simply because the girl bested you."

Draco's heart skipped a beat at his mother's audacious display of acceptance. His father, however, was not amused.

Her features betrayed nothing when she caught her husband's gaze through the mirror as he stood behind her chair.

"If you were concerned with them disappearing perhaps you should have hid them better, dear," she continued as if she hadn't just insulted her husband exorbitantly.

Lucius smiled, though it held no humor, only a paralyzing evil.

"None but you and I can open that wardrobe. Do not lie to me, Narcissa," Lucius crooned, trailing his fingers up her arm, gliding over her shoulder to her elegant neck, the threat not lost on Draco.

"You know where he is," Lucius intoned lowly, his voice one of a lover as he continued to curl his fingers along the delicate column of her throat. "Is he in this room?"

"You said so yourself, Lucius," she murmured, seeming wholly uninterested in the conversation they were having and turning her gaze back to her pristine features. "If Draco were indeed to enter the grounds he would be killed before he set foot into the parlor. Do you really believe he could have made it all the way up here alive?"

"Not without help."

"Torture me if you must," she retorted, dragging a finger beneath her eye as if to fix a smudge. "But you'll find yourself dissatisfied with the results."

"Do not play with me, Narcissa!" Lucius snapped, grabbing her arm and yanking her from her chair, whipping her around so hard she hit the table and cosmetics toppled to the floor. "I have warned you what will happen if you choose to aid your son! He is no longer one of us, he is dead to us! You would throw away _everything_ we have built to help that traitor?"

"He is your _son!"_ she screamed, outraged. "I will not let you harm him any longer!"

 _"Where is he?"_ Lucius roared, slapping her soundly across the face, sending her to the floor much as Draco remembered Blaise doing to Hermione. Draco moved to aid his mother but stopped as his parents both started, looking at each other, stilling in their fight. Draco's curiosity was short lived as Lucius drew back his sleeve which showed his Mark burning black against his skin.

Lucius sneered triumphantly. "It seems our son's little escapade is up. If you hand him over to me now I will not tell the Dark Lord of your treachery."

Narcissa looked up at him murderously. "I'll never let you touch him again."

Lucius smirked and yanked her up from the floor, tucking back a stray strand that had fallen free from her elegant up-do. "Then come, _dear wife,_ and see how you hold up against the Dark Lord's fury."

He shoved her forward, his wand at her back. Draco waited with bated breath, counting the seconds until he knew they were far enough away before following them noiselessly down the stairs and into the packed hall where he was hard pressed to make his way without jostling someone and causing a stir. He waited against the wall as the horde of Death Eaters streamed in, making their way down the hidden hall towards the Dark Lord's meeting chamber. Potter's cloak seemed little protection against the looming sea of black, but no one glanced his way, all of them rushing to their master's side as bid. Following the last of the stragglers, Draco slid in, keeping to the back wall, scanning the room, cursing silently at the packed hall, knowing it would hinder his task.

As always, the Death Eaters assembled swiftly and silently, facing front, awaiting their leader wordlessly. Not a muscle twitched as the last Death Eater sidled into place, every eye on the dais where Draco knew Hermione had faced her torture.

Endless minutes later the Dark Lord billowed from the shadows at the back of the dais, Nagini slinking along next to him. Without a word, the drove of black sank to their knees as one, every head bowed in submission to their leader.

Draco looked across their lowered forms to the Dark Lord whose red eyes _stared right back._ Fear jolted through him, freezing him in place as he kept the Dark Lord's gaze. Though still invisible, he had the uneasy feeling that the Dark Lord knew Draco was standing there, pressed against the back wall, waiting to rid him of the last remaining piece of his soul. Nagini hissed quietly in his direction as if she, too, knew he was there to murder her.

Draco let out the breath he hadn't know he'd been holding when the Dark Lord turned away, looking around the room as if expecting Draco to jump up at any moment, his jaw clenching ever so slightly when he saw nothing but his obedient servants.

"Rise."

Draco's route to the snake was blocked by the Death Eaters who were packed shoulder-to-shoulder in the dark chamber. His only access was up the center aisle, directly in front of the Dark Lord himself. Knowing he had no other option, Draco crept to the left, moving frustratingly slow in an attempt to not be heard over the Dark Lord's monologue.

"You may be wondering why I have called you here before our scheduled time," he began, his icy voice ringing through the bowels of the room. "Nevertheless, you have arrived as I have bid. You have been dutiful. But I wonder…"

The Dark Lord began to pace, Nagini staying close, weaving expertly between his feet. Draco dared not even breathe in the silence that ensued as every ear in the room strained to hear the reason for their gathering.

"Who in this room has been unfaithful to their master?"

The group shifted uneasily. No good ever came of meetings in which the Dark Lord suspected betrayal. He anger was terrifying and erratic; anyone stood a chance at their death whether guilty or not.

"Who is holding out on their master?" the Dark Lord continued, scanning the room slowly as if daring someone to come forth. "Who knows something they are not telling their lord?"

No one moved, no one breathed. Draco stalled, watching the Dark Lord eye his followers, his pose relaxed, but everyone knew it was a ploy. His anger radiated through the crowd and even Draco could feel the hair stand up on the back of his neck.

"Am I to believe that not one person in this room is aware that our walls have been breached?"

Necks craned, silver masks flashing about as if Draco would be standing amongst them waving. And though he knew he was well hidden under Potter's cloak he dared not move or breathe lest someone hear and find him out.

The Dark Lord's eyes moved to the front row where his closest followers stood, eyeing the smallest among them.

"Narcissa…"

Draco's stomach dropped. When every head turned to gaze at his mother he nearly broke, wanting nothing more than to rush forward and steal her away, Apparate her out of this place and find a new way to kill the snake, one that didn't include sacrificing his mother, the largest reason Hermione had taken the Mark in his stead.

 _She chose to help you, she knows what she's doing. Don't waste her sacrifice, focus on your task,_ he berated himself, setting his eyes on the dais where the snake was looking expectantly up at her master, waiting patiently for her next meal.

"Yes, my lord," Narcissa answered calmly, her clear voice ringing around the room. His mother had always been the perfect little actress, her façade as carefully erected as a born and bred Malfoy. He knew without looking that her posture would be impeccable, her demeanor fearless. For the first time in his life he was grateful for her playacting, knowing the longer she was able to draw out her performance the more time he had to get to the snake. Keeping his gaze resolutely on his task, Draco started forward tediously slow, making sure every inch of him was covered, using the droning of the Dark Lord's voice to mask the swish of the cloak.

"I believe you are aware of the consequences of lying to your master?"

"Of course, my lord."

"And you would never lie to your master, would you?"

"Never, my lord."

The crowd shifted uncomfortably and Draco chanced a look up at the Dark Lord. His smile made chills erupt down Draco's spine. He was going to kill her. Draco knew he had only moments and he was still so far from the snake but he couldn't move, frozen in fear.

"Come."

Lucius and Bellatrix stood back to allow Narcissa to pass and she sank into her customary curtsy at the foot of the steps before the Dark Lord whose malicious eyes were gleaming. Thoughts of killing the snake slid away beneath the fear for his mother, his left hand moving for his wand while the right still clenched the basilisk fang. The Dark Lord stared down at her bowed head, taking pleasure in drawing this out.

"Where is your son?"

"My lord, I do not know."

"Do not lie to me, Narcissa," the Dark Lord drawled, his hand reaching out instinctively, Nagini rising up to rub against his palm, drawing Draco's attention once more. "Do you think I would not know when someone walks uninvited into my presence?"

"Of course not, my lord."

"Then I ask you once more." His voice was hard, his wand in hand. Draco's heart was pounding so loud in his chest he worried those around him would hear. The snake was right there, open for the attack, paying no attention to anything but her master, hoping he would grant her with a snack.

Draco's eyes snapped to the Dark Lord's right hand which had lifted ever so slightly, ready to strike Narcissa down. Draco panicked. If he didn't attack now, didn't create a diversion, his mother would die - but if he tried to make a move he would have to shove his mother to the side to gain entrance to the steps leading the Dark Lord. He would be discovered instantly, obliterating his plan before he could so much as lift the fang…

 _"Where is your son?"_

Narcissa didn't so much as twitch, her face reverently to the floor. "I do not know, my lord."

"LIAR!"

"She's not."

Draco almost fell to his knees in relief and shock as the Dark Lord whipped towards the interference, his mother momentarily forgotten. Murder filled his red eyes as a small figure swept their way up the aisle, causing Draco to step to the side, though they thankfully stopped behind him.

That relief twisted into icy fingers of panic as he recognized the voice that spoke.

"It wasn't Draco who set off the barriers," Hermione said, her cool voice ringing through the chamber. Draco started forward, heart in his throat, trying to get to her, to stop her, but he was too late. Hermione whipped her silver mask off, her hood falling to her shoulders, her fearless gaze on the Dark Lord.

"I did."

Draco almost shouted out in fear and rage as the room exploded at her revelation. _Damn you, you stupid, reckless Gryffindor!_ he cursed her, every instinct clamoring to cross the two meters that separated them and wrap her in his arms, protect her, but he couldn't blow his cover, not now, not after the two people he loved most in this world had put themselves in the line of fire to ensure his success.

Those closest that recognized her turned to others behind them, spreading the news of Potter's Mudblood in their midst. She stood dauntlessly before the Dark Lord who looked enraged enough to strike down every person in the room. No one dared make a move, their eyes on the altercation before them. Narcissa was still on her knees, gazing up at the scene behind her in disbelief. Draco knew he should go now, use the mutterings as a cover, but he was terrified of moving away from Hermione, of leaving her open to fire.

"Well, Miss Granger," the Dark Lord murmured, every muscle in his body tense at the strain it took him to keep his voice composed. Draco had never seen him so angry. He knew he had to move now if he was going to get to the snake before the Dark Lord brought his fury down on Hermione. Hoping he wasn't sentencing her to death, Draco began to creep slowly towards the steps.

"I admit myself impressed at your audacity," he continued, the room stilling at his ice-edged statement. "I have been told repeatedly not to underestimate you and it seems I have."

"A common enough occurrence, I assure you," she replied from behind Draco as he crept forward. "I am only a _Mudblood,_ after all."

Draco stilled on a curse, shaking his head at her attempts to further incite the Dark Lord. He half expected him to kill her now for her insolence, but the Dark Lord's curiosity was piqued and he grinned instead.

"Indeed. I congratulate you on your ability to breach my barriers. Come, my dear; indulge me. How was it you were able to remove the protective enchantments I, myself, set?"

"I didn't."

The crowd sucked in their breath at her cheek and Draco's heart pounded with fear as he neared the dais, his mother less than a meter from him, the snake only steps away. He looked up into the Dark Lord's face which fell from amusement to irritation.

"You did _not_ remove the barriers?"

"No, _my lord,"_ Hermione mocked and Draco wanted to groan in fear for her life. How could she stand there insulting the most dangerous man in the world in a room full of people who would kill her in a heartbeat if he but raised his hand in permission? "I assure you, your barriers are safely in place."

"Then who brought you here?" the Dark Lord snapped and Draco knew his patience was running thin. _Please Hermione,_ Draco begged. _Don't do anything rash._

"I did."

The crowd tensed as the Dark Lord's back straightened in aggravation. _Like that,_ he groaned inwardly. Draco watched the murderous man warily, ready to tackle him if he went to strike, but a movement caught his eye and he looked down to see his mother shifting ever so slightly, making a path for him to get to the steps without disturbing her or the wizard who stood to his right at the front of the crowd. With his stomach somewhere in the region of his esophagus, Draco waited, glancing back over at Hermione who looked as if she were having a quiet conversation over tea, not purposely provoking the most evil wizard of all time. His love for her flared, fueling him for what he had to do.

What were the chances Hermione could escape once Draco had killed the snake? If the Dark Lord didn't murder her on the spot any number of death Eaters would do the job for him. Frozen with indecision he listened to contention between the two, his eyes never leaving the stationary python from her curled position beside her master.

"Then how, _my dear,_ did you manage to con your way into this very private meeting?" the Dark Lord snarled. Draco's heart leapt, knowing instantly what Hermione planned to do.

She was going to show him.

The breath left his lungs as he watched her smile, praying to every deity out there that it wasn't for the last time.

"With this."

And as the room burst out in crazed fury Draco moved, making sure his feet were covered as he made his way passed his mother and up the steps while the Dark Lord jerked back as if scalded. He didn't have any time to lose, the Dark Lord's face was twisting in anger and the crowd seemed to have surged forward in an attempt to verify that the Mark on Hermione's arm was, in fact, real.

Gripping the basilisk fang, Draco lunged. The snake lifted her head at the last second, meeting his gaze and emitting one last, harsh hiss before he struck, sinking the fang deep into her throat.

Draco was thrown back as the room exploded, his head smacking against the black marble as he slid across the ground. Stars danced before his eyes as a black cloud burst forth from the mutilated body of the snake, one long, terrifying scream renting the air.

"NOOOO!" The Dark Lord shrieked, his eyes searching for the person who had done it. Seeing no one, he whipped around to Hermione who was trying to yank Narcissa to her feet and he bellowed in outrage. _"AVADA KEDAVRA!"_

"NO!" Draco roared as the two hit the ground in a flash of green. He struck thoughtlessly, his spell sending the Dark Lord sprawling and those around him reeling, every eye turning in his direction, though he was still miraculously hidden beneath the cloak. Draco couldn't breathe, couldn't think. He had only one objective; to get to Hermione and his mother, to undo what he had seen -

"KILL HIM!" the Dark Lord screamed as he scrambled unceremoniously to his feet. "FIND THE BOY AND KILL HIM!"

Spells flew in his direction and Draco hit the ground. There was no way he could get to the women who still lay on the ground, crumpled and unmoving. The Dark Lord was striding towards his direction, slaughter written in every line of his face as he killed those closest to him in a fit of rage.

Remembering he was a Malfoy again, Draco turned on the spot with a loud _crack!_ and landed beside Hermione. He caught a flash of his father heaving his mother from the room, unnoticed by those around whose attention had abandoned the still bodies and was now focused on their leader who was striking out at anyone in his vicinity, everyone scrambling to get out of dodge and creating a commotion as they rushed for the door.

Draco wasted no time and wrapped his arms around Hermione's limp body, hampered by the cloak. Slamming his eyes shut he brought to mind the image of the lawn he'd left not hours earlier and Apparated out, spells flying around him as nearby Death Eaters caught his actions.

But he was already gone, landing with a thud on the soft grass outside the barriers of the second headquarters. Numb, his quaking hands turned Hermione over in his embrace, not wanting to see but needing to know…

And then he was being tackled, his overwrought mind unable to process the significance of this action until her laughter was ringing in his ears, until she was ripping the cloak from his head, her face shining in admiration and joy.

"You did it!" she cried in disbelief. "I can't believe you-!"

Her words were cut off as Draco shot up and attacked her lips, pressing his cold ones against her very alive, very warm ones. He clutched at her frantically, gripping her too hard, kissing her too roughly, pressing her eager body against his as relief made its sick, slippery way into his stomach, the knot in his throat tightening as shock melted into residual fear.

She leaned back softly and caressed his face, soothing him, her face shining with adoration. A wretched sound ripped from his lips as he buried one hand in her long hair, the other tangling in the fabric of her cloak, shock and confusion stealing his voice.

"It's alright," she hushed, brushing his sweaty bangs back from his temples before leaning forward to kiss his brow. "It's alright now. We're safe."

"I thought, I thought he-"

She shook her head as he choked on the words, her entire face beaming. "He missed. Your mother, too. I felt it would be safer if they thought we were dead until we could make our escape. Luckily she seemed to have the same idea. I thought our cover would be blown when your father came but you were already there." She tightened her hold on his jaw, forcing him to latch onto her eyes. "You did it, Draco. You killed the snake, you saved us, we're safe."

He leaned his damp forehead into the crook of her neck, breathing her in, grasping her tighter, her hands coming to play with his hair, calming his racing heart.

"I wasn't sure if you were still with us," she admitted softly and he scoffed. He kissed her collarbone, then up her neck to her lips, his hands coming up to hold her face as he worked her mouth. He could feel her melting, knew she felt the intensity as he did.

"Do you believe me yet, you insufferable swot?" he grated out and she let out a soft laugh, sniffing before nodding bashfully.

"I couldn't leave it up to you," he explained. "Not this time. I couldn't put you at risk, not again, not after everything... I thought I was going to die when you ripped off that mask. What were you thinking?"

Her eyes shifted uncomfortably. "I hoped that you...I figured if I gave you time you might...and you did, so it all worked out, didn't it?"

Draco shook his head disbelievingly. "You thought that I'd betrayed you and yet you risked it anyway?"

Her eyes finally met his. "A part of me knew... It couldn't have all been an act, could it? I knew I felt...something..."

"It wasn't an act," he grunted, tilting her face up to his properly. "None of it, especially not what I told you last night. I _love_ you, dammit. What more do I have to do to make you understand?"

Tears sprang to her eyes but she shook them away, leaning forward to capture his lips sweetly. "Nothing, Draco. I love you. I never should have doubted you, even for a moment."

"And yet even when you doubted me you still decided to storm into a room full of Death Eaters and rile the man who is trying to get your kind eradicated from existence?" he asked incredulously and she smirked in a fashion so familiar it made his heart clench.

"Something like that."

He laughed, feeling lighter than he had in years, kissing her again, reveling in her beauty. "You are by far the bravest witch I've ever met."

She grinned. "Did you see his face?"

He chuckled. "I was a little busy trying to destroy a Horcrux while you had your little _tête-à-tête."_

She shrugged, unable to bite back her grin. "Excuses."

Hermione leaned forward and embraced him in a silky kiss, making him groan at the addictive sensuality. Draco let himself relax for the first time in longer than he cared to remember, simply enjoying the feel of her straddling him, her chest pressed tightly against his, her heart beating hard against him, her soft lips open and welcoming. By some amazing turn of fate they were safe, the snake was gone and, most importantly, she was his.

He dragged the kiss on, delving into her over and over, reveling in this singular moment of bliss.

And then the moment ended.

.

.

.

A/N: I return from the dead! A million bajillion apologies for the ridiculously long wait, RL has been something of a hurricane lately. I will be working my utmost to get the last couple of chapters to you guys as soon as I can. For those of you that stayed with me, I am most humbled and thankful. For those who are just being introduced, well, you never missed me in the first place!

I hope you enjoy the next chapters.

So much love,

XOXO

RynStar15


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